


Bruises of Gold

by narschlob



Series: Sunshine and Tarberries [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Long, M/M, Multi, Other, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-31 11:50:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 60,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narschlob/pseuds/narschlob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Juniper James has been through a lot: she's retired power armor infantry, lived through a busted up cryo destroying her face, a dead husband, a missing kid, and that's just the stuff that's already happened to her. When she tries to admit her feelings for Goodneighbor's mayor, he goes awol and she has to sort out what love really means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One Where She's Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> angst angst angst angst, what the most painful thing we can do to our kids and have them survive it?

“It was a loveless marriage.” She says, curled around a bottle of whiskey at her kitchen table in Home Plate. “It didn’t start that way,” she sighs, catching Hancock’s eye across the room.

The Mayor looks up from sorting his chems to lock eyes with her. It had been months since they had any new leads on the kid and a recent laser to the gut had him dragging Juniper home for rest. Rest she was expertly avoiding by getting drunk.

“Nate?” He entertains, going back to what he was doing.

Juniper lifts the bottle to her lips, hiccuping once. “Nate was a mechanic for the battalion I was assigned. A wizard with anything robotic.” She propped her chin on her wrist as she continued. “I would talk him up when I brought in my power armor. Wasn’t long before we were sleeping together. Nothing more than two lonely kids fighting a war that didn’t end.”

“You loved him, don’t say that.” Hancock chided, frowning at her. “If you spout any more of that nonsense I’m gonna take that bottle away.”

Juniper raised her hands in surrender. The room tilted on its axis, but not so much that she couldn’t stay in her seat. She smiled at the ghoul and chuckled to herself.

“Just hear me out. I’ll find the point soon, when I get the words out.”

Hancock lifted his hat off and rested it on the coffee table, crossing his arms and settling in.

“Shoot.”

“We thought we were going to die over there. I found out I was pregnant. He stepped on a mine one day, blew his whole leg off. Had to replace it with robotics. Shouldn’t have happened. I was on all the meds and so was he, but I guess they call those miracles.” Juniper stood, shoving the cork into the whiskey and standing on her tiptoes to sit it back on the liquor shelf. On wobbly knees she crossed the room to plop down on the couch beside her companion.

“Thought that, since this little miracle bought us a ticket back home we’d make it official. Got hitched on the flight home then went to visit his parents.” Jun scowled, waving a flippant hand. “His mother was so angry.”

She sat up straighter, putting both hands on her hips to mock her mother in law.

“You could have got rid of it Nathan,” Juniper snarled. “Saved us all the shame. Didn’t have to bring it home.”

She slumped back into the couch, eyes on the ceiling. Hancock unfolded his arms and shrugged out of his vest, standing to sit it on the trunk where he left his coat earlier that day. Clad in only his historic blouse and breeches, he reclined back into the rickety old sofa with a frown.

“She sounds so pleasant.”

“She hated her Catholic son marrying a godless heathen like myself. What I wouldn’t give to have seen the look on her face when she found out her god let the atom loose.”

Hancock chuckled and reached for the coffee table to pick up a handful of mentats which he proceeded to pop into his mouth one by one. His black eyes stayed focused on Juniper. She brushed back the side of hair that hadn’t been shaved short, revealing the nasty scars her broken cryo tank left her. Her misted eyes were sunk into the bruises that never faded, the bandanna she regularly worse to cover them forgotten in her buzz. Absently she thumbed the tattoo she got on their last trip back to Goodneighbor, the stitching across her neck. He found it quite amusing the amount of effort she put into playing the monster she thought she was. As he took her in, she continued.

“So we bought our little house in Sanctuary to be close to his parents. Nate wanted this kid to have a granny and pops. We named him Shaun after his grandad, you know. I hated the name, but I liked making Nate smile and boy did he smile when they pulled that little human out of me.” Jun’s hand rubbed her stomach absently. “It was a wonder he didn’t have some sort of defect, considering his parents were a couple of losers.”

“Hey,” Hancock curbed her. “The coolest losers.”

Juniper let out a dry laugh when she noticed the irony. Dropping a hand to his knee to squeeze.

“Frozen solid.” For once, the ghoul didn’t have a retort. He simply watched as she readjusted her fingers on his knee, tapping them to the beat of the radio crackling from the loft.

“Anyway. The night the bomb dropped Nate was going to some function. I remember thinking, for the first time, hey, I could do this. I could be long time with this guy. We had a sort of unspoken agreement where we both knew this wasn’t the life we planned but for soldiers like us? This was as good as it would get.”

She sat up suddenly, looking him in the eyes. Her grip tightened and then disappeared.

“I didn’t know I could love Nate until I saw someone kill him. We’d lived on the edge of death for years, but seeing him struggle as they stole my baby from his arms,” Juniper took a deep breath to steady herself. “I watched the only person who understood me die trying to protect the only thing he ever loved. And for the first time since I was a kid I felt something other than apathy.”

Juniper was leaning into him as he sat up, her eyes intense on his face. For a second Hancock’s breath hitched.

“I’ve been carrying the guilt of my dead husband with me across the Commonwealth. I want you to know, as awful as it sounds, that in two hundred and thirty years I only loved Nathan James for one day.”

Hancock was cradling her now, running a calloused hand through her hair and pressing his lips to her forehead. Even with the added chem boost he couldn’t follow her logic. Why tell him all this? Why tonight? She’d drank more and said less countless times before. Maybe it was the hole in her side, a fever. A hiss pushed through his teeth as he wished she had left on her pipboy so he could check her vitals.

“Y'know sunshine,” he said, trying to lighten her mood. “Not that I don’t enjoy your trip down memory lane, but I believe you said you had a point in all this.”

Juniper sat up, eyes red as she gazed into his black eyes and folded her hands around his. She looked both lethal and majestic, white halo of hair of setting on the gnarled features of her face.

“John,” his name came out like a whisper. The sound made his stomach do somersaults. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”


	2. The One With The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so it probably wasn't just the alcohol talking, but being sober is making this too hard to handle. (ie, what happens when they actually have time to talk about that relationship that's forming with more than just 4 options)

“Wow.” Hancock wasn’t able to form much else in the word department. Jun was curling into him, talking about love and all he could say was wow. Of course, the fluttering in his chest was tempting him to blurt it right back out at her, but he knew better than to act like a child. They were adults and she was clearly high off her rocker tonight. Sighing, Hancock slid his arms beneath Juniper and lifted her easily. Though he sometimes looked like the wind could blow through him, he had no trouble carrying her up the stairs and she squirmed in his arms. 

“Do you?” She asked him, big eyes staring up at him as he laid her in her bed. Damn if she wasn’t working him over, he thought. 

“How about we talk about this when you’re sober sweetheart?” Hancock said gently, covering her with the ratty blanket she kept at the foot of the bed. She nodded and rolled onto her side, falling asleep. 

Hancock stayed on the edge of the bed for a moment, making sure she slept soundly. It was difficult not to look at the wedding ring she kept on her night stand. Beside a skull. Rubbing his eyes, Hancock went down stairs to escape the thoughts of her husband's ghost. However, the lower level was no better. What Jun claimed was the spare “room” was really just a bed with a bunch of children's toys all over it. It broke his heart to see her holding out hope like that. While he wanted to find Shaun alive, logic reminded him that the kid was probably long dead. He didn’t have the heart to remind Juniper of that though, he wasn’t that cruel. 

Instead of moving the toys to sleep in a bed, he went back to the living area and dropped down on the couch, rolling to get comfortable. Boy did he need to get some sleep if he was going to tackle feelings sober. 

Much like Jun, Hancock was asleep as soon as he stopped moving. He drifted into pleasant dreams of a quaint little home with Juniper and Shaun. He came through the door, their home a vision of post war wallpaper and homeplate’s dim lighting. Jun was wearing the denim dress she acquired from Fallon’s, cooking dinner for the family. Her hair was the bright orange it had been in the photos she’d shown him before the bomb. Big green eyes turned on him, a smile spread across her face. 

“Can you hold Shaun while i finish this?” She said, handing him the baby wrapped in blanket. 

Shaun had her big green eyes and his blonde hair. Funny, that they would make a kid that looked nothing like them now. Soft, unradiated flesh covered the hands that held Shaun, and for a moment Hancock didn’t recognize himself. He looked up at himself in the mirror over the bookshelf, his face still in tact. His nose. When he looked back down at Shaun the baby had a hold of one of his fingers. His coos quickly turned to cries as the flesh he was holding only began to melt off. Hancock gasped in shock, calling for Jun. 

“No, no, no!” When he looked back into the mirror the skin of his face had slid away, leaving behind a ghoul. “Shh, shh, shh.” He struggled to comfort Shaun, who was wailing now. Hancock watched in horror as the infant suddenly lost his skin, becoming a tiny, shriveled ghoul. When he tried to touch the child, Shaun turned to dust, disappearing completely. 

“Jun, please, help me!” He turned to look for her, but she was gone, as was their home. Hancock stood in the pitch black of a subway tunnel, ferals paying him no mind. He called for her again, but his voice only echoed. 

“John?” Her voice was soft behind him. He turned to find Jun, his Jun, all scars and leathers. He reached out to her, pulling her close. She was shushing him now, running her hands over his shoulders and chest. Hancock held her tight, burying his face in her neck, breathing her in. Tarberries and flowers, she always smelled like tarberries and flowers. He placed a kiss on the hollow of her neck, but instead of comfort she screamed. 

He released her like a hot iron, but her body was limp and fell to the ground with a thud. “No, no, no, no, no.” he cried, falling to his knees to cradle her in his arms. She was bleeding from the same place he kissed her, eyes rolled back in her head. The pipboy on her arm was buzzing, no vitals. Dead. Hancock looked at his own hands, covered in blood. Her blood. This was what feral felt like. No control, just pain and blood. 

He woke up screaming. 

Juniper ran down the stairs, ready for anything and slightly hungover. When she found nothing in the little living room, she rushed to the mayor’s side, kneeling in front of him. 

“Hancock, hey.” she shook him gently. “Are you alright?”

Opening his eyes to her face settled a number of his fear and created a dozen more. Her brows were knit together, worrying over him. He sat up, running a calloused hand over his face. Yep, still a ghoul. At least that much he could count on, he thought. Sighing, he smiled at Jun and grabbed his tricorn off the table, taking comfort in putting it back on. 

“Just a bad dream, sunshine.” She relaxed as he spoke. “Too many chems before bed.” And too many declarations of love, if he was being honest. 

“How about I make some food, then.” Jun stood, heading for the little stove she managed to build into her home. “I’m pretty drug out myself.”

“How’s the side?” Hancock asked, not forgetting about the reason they were back on bedrest in the first place. 

“Stimpack finished it’s job, thankfully. We can head out tomorrow if you’d like.” Jun said, casually. Hancock grumbled a response, getting up to retrieve a pair of coffee mugs from the shelf. Jun poured the watered down soup into each of the cups, sitting the rest of the pan on the stove, checking twice that it was turned off. When she took her seat across the table, Hancock sighed. They needed to have that sober talk. 

“Wanna talk about your dream?” Jun asked instead. She was avoiding the topic of last night. Hancock palmed his mug, not wanting to meet her eyes. 

“It was sobering, in more that one way.” His voice was low. “We should talk about us.”

Juniper groaned. Totally avoiding it, he thought. 

“What’s there to talk about? I kinda told you I loved you and you said maybe later.”

Hancock winced, and yet somehow she was still willing to put up with him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to work through his thoughts, looking for a better way to say what he wanted that didn’t sound like ‘maybe later.’

“I’m dangerous to have around, Jun.” She scoffed at him, sipping from her cup. “One of these days, you’re gonna wake up and I’ll be trying to eat you, and not in the fun way.”

“Sure,” Jun dismissed, “You’re gonna go feral some time and I’m going to get old. We can make a blood pact to shoot the sucker who makes it there first.”

Hancock frowned, not liking how serious she wasn’t taking this. He tried again, this time targeting something she actually cared about. 

“And when we find Shaun, what then? You just gonna put me on a leash outside so I don’t nibble at the kid?” 

This time she laughed, a breathy sound that didn’t actually have any joy in it. Jun got up to pace the kitchen, waving her hand as she spoke. Her hair fell over her eyes and her hips swayed, making it hard for the ghoul to concentrate on why he shouldn’t be shacking up with this pre-war poster girl. Number one, he thought to himself, she has a kid. This would be the first time he pursued a parent. Kids generally gave him the heebie jeebies, but maybe it was that thought at the back of his mind that Shaun was already dead that gave him the ok. Ha, yeah right. That’s why he was having nightmares of eating his happy family alive. He couldn’t even lie to himself.

“If we find Shaun, we figure out what to do from there. Why does there need to be a plan? I thought you were fun loving, adventure seeking John Hancock, not boring, worrier John Hancock.” Jun chided. Any other day, he would have snapped back with something witty, but she needed to understand how seriously he took this.   
“I get it,” Jun continued. “You don’t think the risk is worth the reward. It’s fine, I’ll drop it.”

“God Juniper, you’re not some trophy I’m trying to win. I just don’t think you’re ready to wake up to this ugly mug every day.” He chuckled, the curbed himself. “And I don’t want to be something you end up regretting when the rose colored glasses come off.”

“Sure, you just want to put it off til later and hope that i change my mind so you don’t have to say ‘Lookie Juni-B, you’re just not the girl for me.’ Ok cool.”

“Listen, I'm not trying to run out on you Juniper, I just don't think I'm ready to take Nate's place.”

“What?” Jun sputtered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any missed errors, i try to proof before posting but much of this gets written through late night brain fogs <3 thanks for showing your love! (if you want cutsey comics of the pair, art can be found on tumblr @narschlob)


	3. The One Where They Split

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rooty-tooty cry and shooty...or something like that. Sometimes, when you haven't cried in like, 200 years, you have a bit of trouble stopping once you start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you wanna hate yourself while reading this (like i love to) listen to If You Could Touch Her At All by Willie Nelson. no, it's not your tradish indie fic music but it's pretty nice for the wasteland feels. PS: canon, what canon?

“Hear me out,” Hancock sat down his mug and fixed his eyes on her mouth, still free of her safety net. “You've been out here for less than a year. No matter how loveless you claim your marriage was, and I'm not so sure I'm buyin' that's the honest truth, you're still new to this. To me it may be two hundred somethin' years since the war but for you it’s like yesterday. You're not just mourning your husband, you're mournin' your whole life. Those fancy cars, air conditioning, easy access to water that doesn't kill ya. C'mon Sunshine, that's big stuff.” 

“But,” she interrupted as he took a breath, but he ignored her. 

“All I'm saying is, I don't want you to wake up finally, once you've adjusted to the way things are, and regret throwing in your towel with me. Just look at this place. There's a reason you set up here in Diamond City, building this little home for yourself. It's the closest thing to normal you'll ever get, and I don't want to stop you from getting it.” He sighed heavily, studying his gnarled hands as they wrapped around the old coffee cup.

Jun stayed silent, pushing up from her chair and walking away from the table. She climbed the stairs to her bedroom loft and up the ladder to the little porch alcove she created on her roof. Once free of the suffocating conversation, she sat down in the old car seat under the awning and pulled her knees into her chest to cry. Hancock was right, she hadn't mourned her life. All the excuses she had been making, throwing herself into the hunt for Shaun, she hadn't allowed a moment for grief. She hadn't cried since Shaun was born, two hundred...no. Three months. He was three months old when they were put on ice. She’d been tearing up the wasteland for about six. A year since she let herself feel anything but rage. Rage and whatever was happening in her heart regarding the Mayor of Goodneighbor. 

Hancock didn't follow her. Not for lack of want, but he decided she needed a chance to let it sink it. God how he wanted to grab her up and kiss her, lover her, make all the bad things go away. But what happened when he ended up being the bad thing? At least he could nip it at the bud, whatever this was, before he wound up unable to leave her. She would be the thing he did right on the first try. Sighing, he waited a few more moments, finishing off his soup before his feelings overtook his logic. Shaking his head, he trudged up the stairs and out the hatch after her. That was enough time for doubt, right? Wrong. He wasn't prepared for what he saw when the popped his head out the hatch. Jun looked ten years younger, all curled in on herself and bawling. 

“Oh no, oh no no no.” He muttered, coming to crouch down in front of her. Gingerly, he rested a hand on her leg. 

“Go ‘way,” she slurred through sniffles.

“Not a chance.” Hancock rasped. He moved to sit next to her, pulling her into him and wrapping his sinewy arms around her. She shivered and he wished he had put his coat back on to offer it to her. 

“You’re right.” She said softly. Hancock's heart tensed up and shattered. He held her tighter to fight off the nausea he felt creeping up his chest. Of course he was right, who in their right mind would love a ghoul like him. 

“Oh, Juniper.” His voice was husky with defeat. 

“I haven't mourned. Not Nate's life and not my own.” She took a shaky breath before continuing. “So I need to do that.” When she sat back to look at him, eyes more puffy than normal, he felt all the little shards of his heart stab individually. 

“I understand.” Hancock relaxed his grip, leaning away from her and reaching up to readjust his tricorn. 

“Will you come with me?” Jun’s foggy grey eyes were the size of saucers and she looked vulnerable as ever. As if whatever he said in answer was going to decide the fate of the universe.

“Listen, Jun, I think it's best if maybe we just take some time off after this.” Again, he wouldn't meet her eyes as he spoke. “Think I need to go take care of some mayoral stuff.” 

Juniper’s shoulders slumped as she lost all gusto. “Oh. Alright.” Like on a string, she pulled her dirty white T-shirt up over her mouth, covering her scars and stood from the chair. “I'll follow you out then, I need to thank Piper anyway.”

Jun snuck back inside, pulling on her sneakers and zipping up the Atom Cats leathers Zeke had given her. She pulled up the green hood she sewed into it and tied her red bandana in place, now hiding from him like she did the rest of the world. As she packed a few things into the pockets of her armor and strapped on her Pipboy, Hancock picked up his coat from where she folded it over the couch and shrugged it on. The radio played them out and Hancock stole a puff of jet to relish his last bit of time with her. The sun hung heavy in the sky as they walked in silence, stopping at Piper's home behind the paper stand. 

“Sup kids,” Piper chimed. “Wow, who popped your bubble gum?” 

“Don't worry about it.” Hancock rasped, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Sheesh. What's got into him?” She asked Jun, who shook her head. 

“I'll be gone for a few weeks again, do you mind making sure I don't get robbed?” Jun handed the reporter her house key. 

“Yeah yeah, all in a day's work.” Piper grinned, holding open the door as the others left. Once they were past the Diamond City gates, the two parted ways. 

“Stay sharp out there General.” Hancock managed, barely getting through this on his high. Jun nodded, her eyes steeled on the ground. When she spoke, he tried to memorize every feature of her voice.

“I, uh. I'll check in with you in a bit. Don’t,” she sighed. “Don't wait up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, if you catch any mishaps feel free to point em out. thanks so much for the love!


	4. The One About Nate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is it that finally makes you move on?   
> Also, a wild Macready appears! Jun uses Run.

Juniper made the long trek across the Commonwealth to Sanctuary Hills, stopping in at the Red Rocket for the night. Dogmeat trotted out to meet her, curling up by her feet when she settled down onto the old mattress. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but not for long. The sound of turrets woke her with a start. She hit the ground, grabbing her shotgun and creeping out of the gas station. Standing in the middle of two busted turrets was a familiar face. Macready had both hands up as he approached her. 

“What the hell RJ?” Jun grumbled, lowering her weapon. 

“Sorry,” the sharpshooter said, “I didn’t mean to trip the alarm, I didn’t think anyone was here.” Dogmeat yipped at him, begging for ear scratches. Macready knelt down to pet the dog, asking Jun why she was there.

“I have some personal stuff to take care of in Sanctuary.” She shrugged.

“Wasn’t Hancock with you?” 

“He had mayoral duties.” She made it clear this wasn’t a talking point. 

“Well, ok then.” Macready said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Juniper folded her arms across her chest, frowning at him as the last fog of sleep left her mind. The sun was halfway up the sky, warming her skin. She would need to fix the turrets he shot out, but that could wait. 

“Why aren’t you at Zimonja?”

Macready shifted on his feet, studying the ground. “It just gets so suffocating with two meatheads breathing down your neck.” He meant Cait and Strong. Even Jun could admit they were a handful. 

“Sure, but who is going to keep them from killing each other now?” 

“Deacon’s there.” Macready brightened, chuckling. “He said he needed a place to lay low. Even offered to impersonate me for a while.”

Jun shook her head at the nonsense. These were the friends she chose, after all. “Well, enjoy the peace and quiet. I’ve got to head out now.”

The two said their goodbyes and Macready watched as she disappeared over the hill, one hand on Dogmeat’s head. Jun made her way over the bridge to Sanctuary, Sturges opened the gates for her. She greeted the few familiar faces she passed and made her way to what was left of her home. She had boarded it up, leaving it entirely untouched after she left the vault. Not a soul had been in it since. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the battered house key to unlock the door. When she stepped in, she left it cracked open absentmindedly. 

She hadn’t been back inside her home after the bomb. Everything was in the same place; deteriorated, but the same. The notes she left for Nate still hung on the fridge and one of Shaun’s bottles was still in the sink. Jun didn’t make it three steps into the kitchen before she was crying again. It’s true what they say about floodgates, she thought. Once you open up for it, it just doesn’t stop. Sitting on the floor, clutching a bottle to her chest, Jun let herself cry it out. It wasn’t until Codsworth buzzed in that she looked up. 

“Who’s in here!” He called, “Oh, Mum. I didn’t know you were…” As he floated closer he recognized the tears on her face. “Are you quite alright?”

“Hey Codsworth.” She said quietly. “Been a while.”

The robot turned to close the door, shutting them off from the rest of the settlement before he returned. “Little Shaun’s bottle.” He stated. 

“I came back to bury Nate,” Juniper told him. 

“Ah.”

Jun stood, dropping the bottle back into the sink. She took one last look around the kitchen before taking a seat on the couch. The television had a crack down the middle and there were stains on the carpet. This wasn’t home, not anymore. Her robot butler floated into view, even he had changed. 

“Codsworth can I ask you something?” Jun pulled down her bandana and pushed back her hood. 

“Of course, Mum.”

“Do you think I can move on?” She took a deep breath, studying the patterns of the destroyed wallpaper. Codsworth didn’t miss a beat. 

“Of course, Mum. In fact, I believe it was Sir’s last request of you.” Jun’s head shot up, trying to remember what Codsworth was talking about. Suddenly, it all came flooding back to her. 

+

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. Fuck.” Jun was pacing back and forth and if Nate hadn’t already made her exit her power armor she would have run a hole in the floor of the garage. The little stick she held was lit up blue and no matter how many times she shook it, it wasn’t changing. 

“They’ll kick me out for this, Nate!” She shouted. 

“Well, for sure if you keep being so loud about it.” He folded his dark arms over his chest. His jumpsuit was tied around his waist, the only thing covering his chest a greased up wife beater. The base was hot as hell this summer, even outside the mechanic’s garage. 

“Nate. I can’t have a kid!” Juniper threw her hands in the air, trying to get him to her level of concern. “What do we do?” 

The mechanic reached out for her, pulling her into a hug. “Well, querida, if you choose to keep it, I’ll be here for you.” Jun shivered at his voice against her ear. Nate always knew what strings to pull to make her melt. That big smile spread across his face was half the reason she was sleeping with him in the first place. 

“I’ve never even been around a kid.” Or a parent, for that matter. Jun’s childhood in the foster system wasn’t a pleasant one. 

“We’ll move up to Boston, close to my parents. They can help us figure it out.” Nate was nibbling on her ear as he spoke. “Buy you a pretty house in the suburbs, set you up with anything you could ever want.” Juniper groaned. 

“How will you do that if you’re stuck here?” 

Nate reached into his pocket and slipped a ring on her finger without making a big to-do about it. Jun gasped as he continued to whisper to her. “I was saving this, hoping maybe in time you’d want me. But what’s waiting worth? If you’ll have me, I’ll always take care of you.”  
And he did. Juniper was discharged shortly after telling her commander about her pregnancy. The day before her flight was due to leave Nate stepped on a landmine and was honorably discharged. Where did a powersuit mechanic cross a landmine? She never asked. When they made it to Massachusetts, his parents did their best to accept his new wife. Nate’s disability paid for a new, robotic leg and their beautiful sanctuary home. Months passed and Juniper got used to the idea of a family. One night, when she was about to pop, they sat in Shaun’s future bedroom drinking wine. 

Jun had her hands wrapped around her stomach, watching her husband mount the mobile above the crib. “Nathan.” She said. 

“Yep?” He sat down across from her, knee audibly grinding. 

“Are we ready for this?” 

Nate gave her one of his showstopping smiles, putting his own hands over hers. The baby turned inside her belly, making her shiver. This little life they had created was ready to come out, but god were they ready for it? Sure, they had the house, the crib, the money, but Juniper still wasn't set on being a parent. Still wasn't ready to hold tiny hands and try to feed it mashed peas. She wasn't even ready to call it a he. And Nathan wanted to name it Shaun, like the kid wasn't already going to have it hard enough without a terrible name. 

“Sure. Ready as we can be.” He sighed, “But there is something we should talk about.” Juniper watched his lips move as he spoke. “If anything happens to us-”

“No, I won’t do this!” She pushed his hand away. “I won’t think about this.” Her red hair fell into her face, big green eyes filled with fear. 

Nate knocked on his metal leg. “Juniper, it happens. I just want you to know.”

“What?” She hissed. "You planning to step on another bomb?" 

“If anything happens to me, you make yourself happy. Whatever that means.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like, proofed this twice. totes. sorry for the digs at not being able to name your own damn kid. it (was) 2015, why isn't that integrated smh
> 
> thanks fur coming around!


	5. The One With the Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More tears and a bit of Macreadles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is like, oc heavy. sorry if you're showing up for hancock he'll be back. soon. probably. (definitely)

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes as she recounted his words. Stupid, generous, loving Nathan James, always ready for a sacrifice. If she never learned about love, he never learned about being selfish. She took a deep breath. It was time to do this. Jun followed Codsworth out of the house, locking the door behind her. She trudged off past the river, to the little island that hosted only a single tree. She spent the rest of the day digging her dead husband’s grave. The sun was on it’s downward turn as she made her way up the cliff to the vault. She slammed her fist on the button, rode the lift, and made it all the way to Nate’s cryo coffin before she needed to cry again.

The sun was probably already down, she reasoned with herself. No reason to rush this, not when there was literally all the time in the world now. Jun took a deep breath, steadying herself as she pulled the lever to open his pod. He didn’t look lovely, like they hot summer day they met. The ice had turned his skin a light blue, much like her own face suffered. Gently she reached out to touch him but stopped, not yet ready. No blood spilled from the hole in his head, making it easier to look at him. Somehow, even though she knew she’d see him die they day they met, it still hurt. Maybe Hancock had been right about this too, she had loved Nate in her own twisted way.

His dark hair crinkled under her touch, little icicles raining down around him. He’d been letting his beard grow out before Shaun was born, saying it made him look like a proper dad. There was a tightening in her chest as more tears threatened their way out. This was her Nathan, her savior. He had found this awful, terrible, hollow woman in the war and loved her unconditionally until the very last day of his life. Jun wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. He deserved so much more than she was able to give him. Her only choice now was to do right by his memory and find their child. Maybe Nate wasn’t a ruthless killer, but Juniper was and always had been. Now she just had justification for it.

Timidly, she placed one last kiss on his frozen lips, a frozen tear dropping onto his jumpsuit. Cringing at his chilled skin, she lifted Nate’s body onto her shoulder and began to carry him out of the vault. While becoming a mother had softened her, waking up in a wasteland made her ten times the soldier she once was. The added weight of the ice in his vein made Nate heavier than the average man, which Jun had been trained to carry during the war. Squaring her shoulders, she readjusted his body and pushed on downhill. Radiated water rose to her thighs as she crossed the river to the little island she dug up earlier.

When they made it to the hole she was sweating bullets and Nate’s body had warmed. She jumped into the hole and pulled his body in. In a moment of weakness, seeing him actually laying dead in the ground, Jun curled up beside his body, wrapping her arms around him. She cried until her body could offer no more. When someone cleared their throat above her, she didn’t even have the energy to be startled.

“Um, Jun?” Macready’s voice carried down to her. “Codsworth said I could find you here.”

“W-what is it?” She asked weakly.

“I just,” Macready knelt down to look into the grave, face softening when he saw her. “I just thought maybe you could use some help.”

“I don’t-”

“I buried my wife, remember. I know it sucks.” He reached out a hand to her. Jun took it, letting him pull her from the hole. The night sky sparkled above them, the only thing untouched by the bombs. Juniper looked up and sighed, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“Alright.”

They worked in silence for the next hour, filling the hole with dirt and when they finished Macready hammered a little gravemarker on the spot and handed Jun a collection of hubflowers. She laid them over his grave, saying a prayer to whatever god that might still exist to keep Nathan safe up there. Macready walked with her back to her old home, waited as she pulled a flip lighter from her pocket and dropped it on the rug in the living room, catching it on fire. Jun stepped away from her house, her old life, watching it burn away in silence.

“Oh, oh dear. Oh no!” Codsworth came buzzing up, trying to extinguish the fire. “I’m so sorry Mum, I don’t know what happened!”

“It’s ohkay, Codsworth.” Jun said. “I did it. Let it burn.”

The three watched as the flames ate away everything that once was, and when they began to ebb towards the next house over, Jun picked up one of the extinguishers she had stored at the workbench for just such an occasion. Once the flames fizzled out, Jun stood back to admire her handywork. For the first time since waking up, she felt free. Macready put an arm around her shoulder, letting her lean on him. It was a kind moment, until she felt his lips press against her forehead.

As if he was shot, Macready dropped his arm and jumped back, eyes wide. Jun, equally shocked, turned away. The two went directly to bed on opposite sides of the settlement, blush still coloring their cheeks. When the sun rose the next day, Macready smiled at her like nothing happened. Ah, so they weren’t talking about it. Good, Jun thought. He offered to travel with her, and for the next few weeks the pair killed more wasteland trash than ever before. After nearly a month passed, they were sitting in camp talking over a bottle of moonshine.

“So, RJ, I gotta ask.” Jun slurred her words together, half a bottle already in her. Macready grimaced.

“About?” He knew what about.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Macready wasn’t nearly as drunk as his companion. “I-I-I I kinda lost track of where I was.” He sighed. “In that moment, all I was thinking of was Lucy.”

“Ok cool.” Jun grinned at him, laying back down on her bedroll.

“Just, cool?” He asked, knowing he should be thankful she wasn’t pushing it.

“Yeah. Just cool. I don’t want anything weird between us.” Jun stretched her arms out in front of her. “You’ve been a good friend to me, RJ. And that’s good enough.”

Another month passed as they traveled together, stopping in to say hey to Nick and Piper, or Deacon and Cait, even Preston, who was loving their gusto for justice these days. They were leaving Diamond City, carrying more than they needed to because there just weren’t enough caps for them to sell all the guns at Arturo’s. Macready was complaining, of course.

“Why don’t we go to Goodneighbor? It’s just around the corner and Kleo will take all the junk.”

“I need to be a lot more inebriated if I’m going to Goodneighbor.” Jun said, shooting him a glare.

“You can get high when we get there.” Macready grumbled.

“I don’t wanna get there in the first place.” Jun put her hands on her hips. Even though her mouth was covered, the frown was apparent in her furrowed brows.

“Is this about what happened between you and Hancock?” Macready was too exasperated to worry that he was being forward. Jun’s immediate start in the opposite direction was answer enough. “So it is. What the hell did he do?”

“Nothing!” Jun said too fast. She took a breath to calm herself. “He didn’t do anything.”

“Then I’m going to Goodneighbor. And if you want any of the caps from this sh-crap, you’re coming too.”

Jun threw her hands in the air and huffed, but she followed him. By the end of the day the two were standing at Kleo’s shop, filling their pockets with caps.

\------------------

“Isn’t this better?” Macready asked.

“Ask me again in about an hour.” Jun said, storming off to the Third Rail. She waved to Ham as he greeted her and stopped long enough only to order the strongest stuff Charlie was offering before locking herself in the VIP room. Macready entered with his hands full of chems and alcohol.

“Geez Jun, was it really that bad?”

“You tell me,” she growled, grabbing a fistful of mentats and shoving them into the bottle of whiskey he brought. Before she put the bottle to her lips, she emptied three inhalers of jet.

“Wow.” Macready watched over her as she drove herself into a stupor.

The creative high from the mentats kept her talking, or maybe that was the whiskey. All her movements seemed calculated and exaggerated, courtesy of the jet. For a moment, she stopped breathing and Macready panicked but she simply took a deep breath and another swig from her bottle. The night was growing long and the merc was tired, letting his heavy eyelids drift closed. He was vaguely aware of his companion curling up next to him, wrapping her arm around his waist. They’d already determined their physical relationship was merely platonic, so it didn’t concern him. He raised an arm to let her cuddle closer, thinking nothing of it. That was how Mayor Hancock found them after Charlie sent Ham after him, curled into one another.

Macready was pushing his boundaries, that’s what he told himself as he folded his arms to hold back his fists. Bloody bastard was clearly pushing it. Why else would Jun be nuzzled into him like that? He could feel his shoulders vibrate with rage as he took in the mess of chems that was the coffee table. Not better. Not better at all, he thought. “Macready!” Hancock’s shout was vicious and punctuated by a lamp flying across the room.

Jun stirred at the sound, hungover and sore. Macready’s hand sought his rifle before he opened his eyes and took in the scene. “Oh, hey Hancock.” He said sleepily, relaxing again.

“What the fuck did you do Macready?” Hancock grabbed the merc by the collar of his ragged trench coat. His voice was barely intelligible over his growl.

“What the heck man?” Macready, finally coming around, was beginning to get offended. Jun groaned behind them, covering her ears and pulling her knees closer to her chest. Hancock wasn’t capable of asking again. As soon as he dropped Macready his fist flew into the other man’s face, knocking him off his feet. Hancock’s follow up took him across the room to pick up Macready again, but this time he was ready. Macready broke the mayor’s hold and got in a punch of his own.

“What the fu-HECK!” He shoved Hancock back, catching his breath. “Look, I don’t know what you two got into, but I’m not cool with this.” Macready wiped the blood that was running down his lip and scooped his hat up off the floor.

Jun raised her head, rubbing her eyes. Hancock’s growl sounded almost feral, getting her attention. Hungover and still high, her head was spinning. She managed to wave at Macready to back off and stumble between the two. When her hand ran up Hancock’s chest he froze.

“John, you need to leave.” She whispered. “You’re too loud and you still broke my heart.”

Macready winced, even though the statement wasn’t toward him. So that’s what happened. God, he thought, and she buried her husband on top of it all. Hancock straightened, shoulders stiff. Without another word he turned and walked out of the Third Rail, eyes full of sadness.

“Goddamn Juniper.” Macready whistled low, not even trying to avoid the curse. “What happened?” Slumping against the wall, her head in her hands, she answered.

“I told him I loved him and he left.”

Macready nursed his bleeding lip and sat down beside her. “Shit.”

Jun stayed in the corner for the rest of the day, refusing to eat anything that was brought to her. Eventually, even Macready left, saying he was going to buy a room at the Rexford and wait on her there. The red lights pulsed around her, making her cringe. Damn that ghoul bastard. Who did he think he was? Why had he nearly come unhinged over Macready of all people? She knew where she would find her answers, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear them.

Getting up, Jun stumbled into the bar and asked Charlie for one of everything. The bartender started to deny her, but she slammed a bag of caps on the table and walked back to the VIP, slamming the door. Magnolia was by shortly, probably the only person in the bar Charlie knew Jun wouldn’t yell at. She sat down a try of indeed everything, whole bottles and full boxes. Magnolia’s eyes pitied Jun, who merely grumbled a thank you and pulled her bandanna up further. As soon as the door closed behind the singer, Juniper was mixing mentats into bottles and shoving needles into her arm. Fuck everyone who thought she didn’t deserve this. Macready, for talking her into coming back to this stupid town and goddamn especially Hancock. For showing his stupid face and thinking he had any right to after...she couldn’t even think about it without her eyes stinging. As her heart tightened, she self medicated herself until the world didn’t exist outside the couch she was laying on.

After not hearing from her for two days, Macready finally decided to go back to the Third Rail and pull Jun, willing or not, back into the world. He’d been in the same place, not even that long ago, and she had been the one to do it for him. When he walked in, Ham stopped him. “If she’s not dead, she probably will be soon.” The bouncer rasped.

“What?” Macready said, agitated.

“Charlie’s said she hasn’t left that room but to order more booze. Put the Mayor out of his last record.” Ham folded his arms over his chest. “Which, by the way, I am obliged to report all this to Hancock himself.”

“Thanks buddy.” Macready frowned. “I’ll see what I can do.” He rubbed the sore spot on his mouth that had turned into a big purple bruise. When he found her, Jun was unconscious, a bottle still in her hand. Macready leaned before her, checking her pipboy. Her chem levels were way too high and her vitals were suffering from it. Lifting her carefully, he half walked, half carried her to the bathrooms to force her to vomit.

“C’mon Jun, this is ridiculous.” He said, lifting her head and pulling her coverings away. She groaned, eyes fluttering open. “I’m not ready,” she whined.

“I’m sorry.” Macready said without actual remorse before putting his finger down her throat.

Once he felt she had got the worst of it out, he carried her back to the couch in the VIP room. He settled her in, propping her head up and laying her on her side for safety before going to order as many waters as he could from Charlie. Classic detox should be good enough for her, he thought, watching her sleep. It was wrong of him to push her into coming here, she clearly wasn’t ready and had her reasons. It wasn’t his place to make that decision. He apologized to her sleeping form, checking her vitals one more time. When she woke up he was going to force feed her an addictol and probably a lecture.

Jun felt like she’d been hit by a car, her head fighting her as she tried to sit up. Rubbing her eyes, she could barely make out Macready asleep in the chair across the room. She vaguely remembered him coming back and forcing her to sober up. She scowled. As if she wanted to be sober while here. Instead of taking the addictol, she grabbed the cans of water and put them in her knapsack. She picked up one of the last few inhalers of jet and sucked it in before finding a pencil and scribbling a quick note on the table for Macready. ‘Gotta jet’ it read, she laughed inwardly at herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you thank you thank you for coming <3


	6. The One Featuring Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jun seeks therapy in the blood of her enemies and her enemies just happen to be anyone breathing. ((alternate title: the one where narsch forgot the word for elbow))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GORE GORE GORE GORE  
> please, if you can't handle blood or violence i encourage you to skip ahead at the line break in this chapter. I'm not in this to make anyone uncomfortable. That being said,  
> Key Points summarized in end notes for those who skip this chapter.  
> DONT READ END NOTES FIRST IF YOU'RE READING THIS CHAPTER  
> again,  
> GORE GORE GORE GORE  
> READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Macready woke to Magnolia’s music drifting into the room. As he remembered his surroundings, he noticed Jun was gone and so was the water. When he found her little note, he sighed. Of course. After of moment of deciding not to go after her, he figured he should maybe find the source of the problem. Pulling on his hat he left the Third Rail and went straight for the statehouse. He took the stairs two at a time, knocking angrily on the doors when he reached the top. Fahrenheit cracked open the door with a scowl.

“The Mayor’s busy.” She said.

“Not for me he isn't,” Macready said, puffing up his shoulders.

“Let him by,” came Hancock’s broken voice.

Fahrenheit stepped aside to let Macready enter. The merc walked right up to the mayor's desk and folded his arms across his chest, frowning.

“Back for round two?” The ghoul said without turning his chair around, malice in his voice.

“Sure, why not.” Macready spat out, agitated. “And while you're beating me up for no reason, why don't you tell me what the hel-eck happened?”

Hancock spun his chair, elbows propped up on the armrests with his fingers together like an old Shroud villain. His eyes looked more sunk in than usual, probably a side effect from the extra chems scattered across the desk. He had spent the last two months steady dosing what Jun had took in two nights. Macready took a genuine moment to be surprised Goodneighbor hadn't ran out of chems entirely.

“Listen kid,” Hancock sounded anything but civil. “Stop stickin you nose, and whatever else, into places they don't belong.”

Macready’s frown became an expression of concern. “Hey man, are you ok? Because honestly, this new shade of bastard doesn't suit you.”

Hancock's eyes narrowed as he glared daggers at the merc. He waved Fahrenheit away and got up from his chair, only wobbling a little. Pacing his office, the good mayor of Goodneighbor lit a cigarette before he spoke.

“What do you know, huh?”

“I know I've got a few friends about to chem themselves to death if they don't get their shi-stuff together.” Macready relaxed his arms, shoving his hands into his pockets instead.

“She's a grown woman, she can handle herself.” Hancock said softly.

Macready studied him, noticing all the subtle ways that Hancock looked more disheveled than usual. Not only were his eyes sunk in, but his whole face seemed more gaunt. He had clearly lost a good amount of weight, his red coat hanging slightly off his shoulders. Anyone who didn't know the guy better wouldn't see it, but it looked a lot like Hancock was becoming more ghoul than man.

“And what about you? Can you handle it, Hancock?” Macready crossed the gap between them and put a hand on the other man's shoulder, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“I'm always up for a good high,” Hancock said without luster. “I'm fine.”

“Sure.” Macready grumbled. “Have you even eaten once all month?” The slight shove he gave Hancock did nothing but make the ghoul hostile.

“Who cares!” He snarled. “Maybe, if I die, I won't have to feel my fucking heart ache anymore!” He shoved Macready back, trying to incite a fight. The merc wouldn't have it, his blood boiling for another reason, this one hitting close to home.

“Oh yeah, that's great! Let's make Juniper bury another man she loves, just peachy!” Macready's cheeks were red with his anger. He hadn't lashed out like this in a long time. “And then, when I'm helping her bury you too, I'll have to tell her that this was all because you didn't have the guts to talk to her about feelings.”

Hancock growled, slamming his fist into the same jaw he had two nights earlier. Macready’s already bruised lip busted open, bleeding again. They scuffed, Hancock losing his hat and the merc ripping open his shirt in the struggle. Hancock doubled over when Macready landed multiple blows to his stomach. Recovering, the ghoul wrapped an arm around the other man’s neck, flipping him over his shoulders like a rag doll. He quickly covered him on the floor, boxing him in the head. Macready rolled him, socking him hard in the face one time before spitting out a mouthful of blood. Leaning back on his knees, he straddled the other man, breathing heavily.

“Had enough?” Macready spat, his hair was falling into his eyes, sticking to hot trails of blood.

“You wish.” Hancock snarled, pushing him back and following up with a kick to the other man’s sternum.

The ghoul pulled the other man up by his coat only to toss him into the coffee table. Out of habit or anger, he didn’t know himself, he pulled the knife from his waist and held it against Macready’s throat. Pushing the other into the table with a knee in the chest, Hancock tightened his hold on knife, taking a deep breath.

“Stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Hancock’s chest was heaving and his voice was thick with exertion.

“Screw you.” Macready said, leaning into the knife at his throat.

They sat like that for a moment, daring the other to make a move. The tension between them made the air thick, their chests heaving in unison. It was Fahrenheit who cleared the air, opening the door and flicking her cigarette at them.

“Time to break it up boys.” She said, uninterested as always.

Hancock was the first to move, flinging his knife into the wall across from Fahrenheit without breaking eye contact with Macready. As he pushed himself off the merc, she walked over to them, arms crossed. Macready spat again, in Hancocks direction, before shaking off the hand Fahrenheit offered him. She shook her head as he limped from the room. But before she closed the door behind him, Macready stopped, eyes on the stairs.

“Next time, I’m not bringing her back.”

 

\---------

 

Pulling her hood over her hair, Jun made her way across the ruins out of Goodneighbor’s reach. Macready had been generous in watching over her, and she would need to thank him later, but right now what she really needed was some time alone. Now that she had put to rest her past, and most likely ruined whatever future she was building with a certain ghoul mayor, Jun had a hole in her life. A hole that she intended to fill with the many corpses of any sorry sucker to as much as look at her sideways. Once more she pulled her rifle off her shoulder and checked the safety was off. War had made her methodical in her weaponry, and she carried the paramilitary basics. A modded 10mm was strapped to her thigh and strapped beside her rifle was a well-used ripper that Rowdy modified for her once in a blue moon. She should visit them, Jun reminded herself as she scaled the ruins of the highway. Zeke and Rowdy reminded her so much of Nate and herself.

No, now was not the time for that. She was moving forward. Right now, she was moving toward a camp of super mutants. Crouching down, Juniper snuck behind a worn down automobile. Pulling up her pipboy, she could locate only two of the big guys pacing around outside the ruins of the old hotel on her targeting system. Easy enough, she thought, and a perfect way to take out some of her pent up frustration. Creeping closer, she cornered one of the mutants who was looking over the edge of the steps built between the collapsed highway and the building. This one had a shoddy pipe rifle, so she would need to take him out first. The other carried only a sledge hammer, but he would come running at the first sound of a fight. Not knowing how many others were in the area gave her pause. She would be faster than they were, but that wouldn’t matter if they surrounded her. Power in numbers was why she hadn't been traveling alone for much of her time in the wastes. Every day she found out something new about this place and it was much safer if there was a person around to watch her back. Scowling, she cleared her thoughts of everything but her target like they taught her in basics. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the ripper from her back and started it up.

“Mommy’s home.” Juniper shouted jovially as she vaulted the wall between her and the mutant.

“What?” The big green brawler gruffed as he focused on her. “Puny human!”

He fired from the hip, missing her completely as she rolled. Picking up speed, Jun circled the mutant and found her vantage point. Jumping up a stack of old barrels, she pushed up and latched onto the super mutant’s shoulders. He began yelling, loud enough to alert the other who called back something unintelligible. Laughing, Juniper hooked one hand around the thing’s broad forehead and tore into his throat with the ripper she held in her other. His blood spewed out, raining down on them both as he struggled against her, gurgling. The mutant’s neck hung limp off his shoulders and she rode his body down as he collapsed, eyes wild with adrenaline.

Just as she assumed, the other was rushing to her. He was ill equipped with his hammer and when he swung at her it was not fast enough. Juniper side stepped him and brought the ripper down over the place where his upper and forearm connected. Green skin tore and the giant wailed, grabbing at her with his remaining fist. He managed to catch her by the neck of her leathers and toss her against the falling building. Jun coughed, breath knocked completely out of her. But this was thrilling and she was feeling more alive than she had in days, more like herself. She recovered, pulling the 10 mm from her hip as she searched to find the ripper she dropped on her landing. It had slid across the rooftop, laying next to the mutant who lost its head. Perfect.

Juniper fired into the mutant’s chest, which didn’t even slow him down. Cursing, she pulled the rifle from her shoulder, held her breath, and fired. The green giant’s eye blew out along with the back of his head. Motor functions kept the body going for five more steps before he fell before her feet. Jun whistled low, putting her rifle away.

“Close one, buddy.” She said to the corpse as she stepped over it and went to pick up her ripper.

She flipped it off and latched it on her back, wiping some of the blood from her eyes as she admired her handiwork. Her chest was heaving and her shoulder was sore from being tossed but damn, she was back in action. Leaping from the the edge of the building back to the highway, Jun pulled up her map. She was less than a days journey from Railroad HQ so she figured she may as well check in. A few hours and many more dead bodies later, Juniper was ducking into the catacombs with a smile.

“Oh, you're back. Goodie!” Tinker Tom shoved another contraption in her hands with a map taped to the top of it. “Only a few more to go,” he said before wondering off again. Jun looked after him fondly before getting Desdemona's attention.

“Tell me there's something I can clear out or transport or rip open with my bare hands,” Jun laughed, but wasn't joking. Des took a drag from her cigarette and shook her head.

“All's quiet on the western front, check with PAM.” So Jun took a stroll down the stairs the ask PAM.

“Anything new in the future?”

“No information available for Agent Whisper.” PAM announced, not looking up from whatever weird thing she was doing this time.

“Okie dokie.” Juniper frowned.

She moped through the headquarters before Doc Carrington waved her over, wearing the same grim look as always. For a moment, Jun got excited at the prospect of being sent on a mission. The feeling didn't last long though, for as soon as she opened her mouth she regretted it.

“What’s up, Doc?” She smiled to herself. Carrington unfolded his arms and motioned to her coat.

“You were shot with a laser and never came in for a follow up.”

“Shit.”

“Get on with it,” the doctor frowned. “I want to see how it healed.”

Juniper reluctantly shrugged out of her jacket and t-shirt before giving the doctor jazz-hands to show her naked torso. He didn’t laugh. Meticulous, scarred hand roamed her abdomen and her throat tightened at the familiar texture. If only the hands were on a different man, she thought, then maybe she would be enjoying this. Instead, she scowled at the back of Carrington’s head and he finished his review of her body.

“Looks like the tissue has regrown completely. Stimpacks work wonders when you have them available.” He glared at her and laid his clipboard down. “Stop making them necessary and we won’t need to go through this again.”

Jun grinned, sliding into her shirt as Glory entered and whistled. “Tell that to the guys shooting me, doc.”

“Or tell Des to stop sending us out blind.” Glory came up behind her, slinging an arm around the vault dweller’s shoulders. She smirked as she spoke to the doctor. The two had become quick friends over their mutual bloodlust.  
“Say, killer, what are you doing back here anyway?” Glory asked. “Thought you were shacking up with ole raisin face and enjoying that injury.”

Jun waved off the comment. “Raisins are so last year.”

Glory’s laugh sounded like smoke and whiskey on a sunny afternoon. It had been so hard for Juniper not to fall in love with the synth every time she looked at her. At least she was on her good side now, even if Jun occasionally daydreamed about Glory’s hands around her throat.

Glory squeezed her shoulder as they parted, a subtle but gentle action that spoke enough for her. Jun nodded and ducked out of the headquarters back exit. Too much feeling and she’d be needing to take another bender, which she did not have time for. Sighing, Jun reached the surface and scaled the wreckage until she was on the road back to Diamond City. The sun was setting behind her, ending the day finally. It was dangerous to travel in the dark, especially alone, but Juniper didn’t stop to consider it. The night fell over the Commonwealth bringing with it eerie quiet. Even monsters needed their rest. She palmed the combat knife taped at her waist and shoved her hands in her pockets. If anything snuck up on her, she’d be ready.

Broken buildings rose around her, hollow shells of a time past. It amused her how little people alive now knew about the skeleton city they lived in. Building their shelters in baseball stadiums and movie theaters, humanity always found a way. But they haven’t changed, she thought to herself as she passed through a raider town. A man in caged helmet yelled slurs at her as she lifted herself onto his lookout perch. The cage did nothing to stop her from stabbing him through the neck and tearing her knife down his shoulder. Blood bubbled up around him as his body slumped against hers. Dropping him, she flipped the knife in her hand so she could plunge it into the head of the woman who had come up behind her.

Another scream and Jun unlatched her ripper, starting it up and jumping off the lookout into the circle of raiders that had formed below her. The weapon purred as the blades spun, eliciting a cruel smile from its owner. One of the raiders fired at her, grazing her shoulder and tearing open the leather of her jacket.

“Oh man are you going to regret that,” she snarled as she pushed towards him, cutting off someone’s arm beside her.

A raider man to her left lunged at her with a machete which she expertly ducked out of, sawing off his hand at the wrist. She swooped down to pick up the discarded weapon, making use of it to cut its former owners throat open in one broad movement. Once the other three raiders were either dead or bleeding out, Jun turned her grey eyes on the one who shot her. He had clambered up the steps over the wall, firing off shots at her from behind a plywood cover. She moved through the dark like a shadow, blending into the blackness. She stopped only to put her boot on the head of a dead woman and dislodge her combat knife.

“Come out and die already, bitch!” Came the voice from above her. Juniper’s dark laughter echoed around them. She could practically hear the man shaking in his boots. Creeping up the stairs, Jun circled her prey. Her voice wrapped around him like tendrils of misty smoke.

“This is my favourite jacket.” She hummed into his ear, her breath on his cheek. “Why did you have to go and put a hole in it?”

Her combat knife was pressed against his adam's apple, warm with the sticky blood of his fallen comrade. The raider trembled as she smeared the blade across his skin, soaking him with someone else’s blood. His fear was tangible in the sweat that beaded through his face paint, the short labored breaths he took to stay still, and the wetting of his pants. Jun caressed him gently, running her fingers down his cheek as she knelt down in front of him. Her movements were almost as intimate as they were menacing. Something old had taken hold of her, the kind of thing you bury when you have a kid. She was enjoying watching him squirm.

“Beg.” she commanded. He did, sniveling and sputtering out word after word of apology.

“P-p-p please, I’ll fix this,” he stammered. “I’ll do anything.”

“Just die.” Jun said, tired of the charade. The raider closed his eyes, shaking in anticipation of his end.

After a long moment of nothing, the raider dared to open his eyes. Nothing. The night was empty and silent in the camp, no sign of the woman who had turned it into a mass grave. Sighing, the man leaned his head back against the wall, thankful for his life. The moment his eyelids drifted closed her bullet tore through his brain.

“No,” Juniper said to the sky. “Humanity sure hasn’t changed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jun leaves Goodneighbor to destress by killing a bunch of mutants and raiders.  
> Gets a check up from Doc Carrington at Railroad HQ and notices how his gnarled hands feel a lot like someone she misses.  
> Raider shoots a hole in her jacket/shoulder, she goes a bit crazy.  
> moment of silence for the fact that humanity dropped bombs to kill eachother and instead of seeing the wrong in that, keeps killing eachother at every opportunity.  
> oh, and Glory gets a line asking about Mayor Raisin and Jun has dirty thoughts about the synth.


	7. The One When They Say I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hancock learns 'making love' isn't just a euphemism.

Diamond City opened its gates, signaling the end of Juniper’s bloody walk home. The big green wall had been painted yellow, something harmless Hancock had her sabotage to get back at the hateful place. Just looking at it made her chest tighten. She passed by Public Occurrences, choosing not to stop and get her key from Piper while she was dripping other people's bodily fluids. The loft would be unlocked. A quick yes to whatever Takahashi said gained her a bowl of warm noodles, which she ate as she strolled around back of the town to the little alcove where she could hoist herself up onto the roof.

The city was quiet at night, the low hum of generators and running water echoing off the stadium walls. Hancock had been right about her, she lived here because it felt closest to normal. Although, without his smug face it was a hollow reminder of everything she couldn't have. As Jun reached the little rooftop porch of her home, she scowled. Now was not the time to be undoing all the hard work she was putting into getting over him. Couldn't let her favourite jacket be shot through for nothing, right? The excuse sounded weak even to her. Opening the hatch, she lowered herself down the ladder. Tonight would be another bender. At least, that's what she intended.

Juniper shrugged from her jacket, laying it nicely over the bench on the loft with the few weapons she unloaded. She took the short steps to her bed before stripping her now red T-shirt and soaking jeans. Once down to her underwear she stretched her arms and went downstairs. It was liberating to be free of her armor for the first time in weeks. Though her and Macready had stopped by Diamond City to hawk goods, they didn't stop to visit home. Rummaging through the cubbard, Jun found a few cans of purified water which she dumped into the wash basin she fashioned beside the stove. She untied the bandanna and dipped it until it ran clean when she squeezed. She was washing her scars when she realized the radio that sat on the coffee table had been turned off.

After her brief time with Travis, she kept a radio tuned to his station at all times. Not only did the old school tunes make her grin like a schoolgirl, but his confidence fed her own. She kept three radios in Homeplate, each one tuned to a different station. Her way of keeping up with everyone even as she relaxed. The Minutemen's beacon played near her workshop, Travis’ voice filled the living area, and once she had convinced him to keep going, Kent’s voice lulled her to sleep with stories of the Shroud at her bedside. As it was, none of her radios were ever to be turned off. House rules. So the fact that there was complete silence in her kitchen, which was smushed into her living area, alerted her that she was not alone. Caustiously, so as not to alert her visitor that she knew he was there, she replaced her bandanna and made an elaborate gesture of combing through the blood in her hair.

Juniper inched toward the table, where she kept a 10 mm taped to the underside. Always a force to be reckoned with, she spun, aiming the gun at the couch. However, instead of some big institute baddie infiltrating her private quarters, she found a sleeping Deacon curled around a sleeping Macready. Jun cursed aloud. First at herself for not noticing the signs of intrusion earlier and then at the clusterfuck of sleepy killers on her couch. Grumbling, she swiped a plate off the table and chunked it at the two of them. The men scrambled, first for their weapons and then frantically to get away from one another.

“Wow Mac,” Deacon coughed as he sat up. “At least buy me dinner first.”

“Aw shove it Deacon,” Macready said, wiping away sleep from his eyes.

Juniper leaned against one of the posts supporting her ceiling, putting her gun hand on her hip and crossing her ankles. While she was still only in her underthings, her face was covered, giving her plenty on what was important. Before the two began to bicker further, she cleared her throat.

“Why the hell are you two in my house?” Both men flushed red when they looked up to find a naked woman before them. “And who, pray tell, let you in?”

Deacon was the first to regain composure, straightening his ever vigilant sunglasses. “I'm here to see a man about a machine, but it got too late and Piper wouldn't let me sleep at her place.”

“Course not,” Jun rolled her eyes. “So she gave you my key?”

“Yep. Said not to break anything. Didn't say not to eat anything. You’ll need more snack cakes soon.” Deacon gave her a movie star smile before reclining back into the sofa. Macready was still red as a tato and looking pointedly at the floor.

“I figured you’d be heading here,” he said controlling himself. “Deacon let me in. I told him to stop eating all the snack cakes.”

“Well I'm sure as shit not offering you anything else to eat, D.” Juniper sighed, setting the gun down on the coffee table and curling up across from the two in her chair. “Who the heck caved your face in RJ?”

Now that she was close enough, and the two men had disentangled themselves, she could see the two black eyes and big fat lip Macready was sporting. Though she asked, half of her already assumed the answer. She hoped she was wrong.

“No big deal.” Macready gave her a small smile, “Just ran into a few raiders on the way over.”

Deacon’s scoff sounded before her own, the grand signal of how poor Macready was at lying. Juniper folder her arms across her bare chest. Macready still wouldn't make eye contact.

“Listen, if I get dressed, I'm getting high. So both of you better keep your negative comments to yourself.” She stood, waiting for an objection. “If you'd rather I'm sober for your nonsense, say it now and I'll sit back down.”

“Much as I can appreciate a beautiful body,” Deacon spoke. “I'd rather not put myself through the struggle of hiding dirty thoughts about you.”

Macready grumbled unintelligibly in agreeance.

Juniper went back up to her loft and shrugged into one of her clean green dresses. She fancied collecting them whenever she could, although she never had any place to wear them out. She’d only ever worn dresses while she was pregnant anyhow, preferring dirty military fatigues or ripped up jeans even before the war. Now covered, she opened the medkit by her bed where she stashed her chems and loaded a handful of mentats into her mouth. That would keep her going, she thought as she returned to her company. That, and the bottle of brandy she swiped from the shelf.

“So, RJ, raiders?” She asked, knowing full well the sharpshooter would have never accidentally let himself end up in the kind of close combat that his wounds came from.

“Mhmm.” He studied the grains in the table, trying to avoid her misty eyes boring into him. Though he immediately went looking for her upon leaving Goodneighbor, he hadn't yet worked out what he would say to her. He was stuck someplace between ‘stop dosing away your problems’ and ‘I'm sorry I got involved.’ however, when he opened his mouth he was surprised by what came out.

“We gotta help him.” Macready’s voice always sounded too gentle when he addressed her. Now that they had broken down that aloof barrier he wore. Now that they were friends. Somehow, his request didn't sound like it came from a friend. Deacon figeted uncomfortably beside him.

“Hmm.” Was all Juniper could muster before she tossed another handful of pills in her mouth.

“I should go,” Deacon suggested as he tried to slip through the door unnoticed. “I'll catch up on this drama later.” And just like that the master of disguise was gone, leaving the two of them in their cloud of tension.

“He’s lost his mind, Jun.” Macready explained as he rubbed the scrapes on his knuckles. “I've never seen him so…” The merc was at a loss for words. If he worried her too much, it would send her right back to the statehouse steps.

“Why?” The mentats were working overtime in her head, making the world come apart at the edges. She could see molecules as they split into one another around her companion’s face.

“I don't think he’s coping,” the man across from her said. “With whatever happened between you, god knows I'll never get a straight answer.”

“No,” Jun said, the chems working her into a mystified frenzy. “Why did you let him hit you?”

Macready ran his hand through his hair. She looked almost serene curled up in her armchair in a day dress. He told Hancock he wasn't going to send her back, but knowing the two gilded lovers like he did, if he told her how much the ghoul was suffering she’d leave at dawn. And while he was cross with Hancock for their fight, after sleeping it off he couldn't find it in his heart to hate him. Shedding what was left of his duster, the merc stood to pace the room.

“I provoked him,” he said, shoving his hands in his back pockets. “I was mad that you ran off and when I found him, all he was doing was getting high.” Jun watched him, pouring brandy into a ceramic mug. It wasn't glamorous, but it did the job. Macready continued.

“He’s barely hanging in there, Jun. I don't know what he’s thinking, trying to hollow himself out or something. Listen,” he stopped pacing to face her. “I owe my life to each of you, a debt I intend to repay. But besides that, besides all the bullsh-junk we’ve been taking on, Jun, you and Hancock are my closest friends. You gave me a chance when I was nothing but rude to you and I'm sorry.” He came to kneel in front of her, studying her as she watched him. “I won't push you to fix things and I can't even tell you if he deserves it, but Hancock is on the fast track of self destruction. More than I've ever seen and I'm pretty sure the only person who can stop him is you.”

Jun pursed her lips as she considered what he said. Sighing, she cradled his face in her hand.

“I'll do what I can.” She said. “Tomorrow.”

When the sun rose so did Juniper. She pulled on clean clothes, a pair of ripped up jeans and an old leather bomber jacket, tied back her far outgrown mowhawk, and holstered her 10 mm. Upon her insurance, Macready remained in Diamond City with Piper. Needed a clear head going back to Goodneighbor and the easiest way to do that was to tear her way through the crumbling city. Which she did. When she stepped through the gate of the drifter haven there was blood running down her hands and in her hair.

The guards remarked on her state of dress, among other things, as she made her way up the spiral stairs. The double doors to Hancock’s room were closed. Farenheit stood outside, smoking as always. Her scowl was more prominent than usual and when Jun tried to open the door, the other woman stopped her.

“I don’t know what you did, but don’t do it again.” She said, flicking the ash of her cigarette on Jun before leaving.

Taking a deep breath, pulled away her bandana. Be open, she told herself. The only way to get answers is to listen. Jun slipped through the door, closing it behind her. Hancock was sitting on the couch, his back to her. The tricorn and red coat were hung over his chair, he was in only his trousers and that dirty old blouse. Empty canisters of jet scattered the floor, more than usual, surrounded by stray mentats and empty liquor bottles. There were even a few jars of buff lying empty on his desk. Clearly, Hancock had been on his own bender since their parting. Macready hadn’t been exaggerating. She hoped he was at least sober enough to hear her out today. He had scared her days earlier, something she wasn't ready to admit to herself. Though she could barely react through the fog in her brain, she was terrified of his anger. She didn’t want to be the cause of that, directly or indirectly.

“Hey.” she said, voice cracking. He didn’t move to verify he heard her. Jun sighed, leaning back against the doors. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, trying to pick the right words.

“I burned my house down.” She began, great line. When he still didnt speak she continued. “Burned the sucker right down, everything in it. No more 2077 to hold me back.” Taking a deep breath, she readied herself to say it outloud. Her palms were sweating and as she wiped them on her jeans.

“We buried Nathan. RJ helped me, that’s why he’s been hanging around. Stubborn as a mule about making sure I don’t have some latent ptsd or something.” She sniffled, trying to hide shaking in her voice. “I carried him out of that damn vault all by myself though, found a nice spot. Would have probably stayed in that grave with him if RJ hadn’t come to check on me.”

At that, Hancock groaned. He was struggling to listen to her, his own hands shaking from withdraws. Since Macready had so generously told him to, Hancock cut out the chems to get his head clear. It had the opposite effect, however, since he had been relying on chems more than food for the past few months. The only thing he wanted was to turn around and hug her but his head felt like it was under a ton of bricks.

“It was probably for the best you didn’t come.” Juniper said studying the toes of her boots closely. “I needed to do it on my own for proper closure.”

Hancock ran his hand over his bare head, finding no comfort of his own. He needed all the help he could get to find the words that would make this better.

“If it’s alright with you, I think I’m done talking about it.” Jun whispered, sliding to sit on the floor.

“It’s been three months Juniper.” He barely got her name off his tongue.

“I know.”

“I’ve really missed you.”

“Did you?” Her question was genuine and raw. It took him off guard.

“Fuck, Jun.” He turned, fighting to stay upright as the room spun. “Yeah, ok I missed you.” He crossed the room to crouch in front of her, knees shaking just as bad as his hands. She could see how thin he had gotten, the gnarled skin under his eyes sunken in and dark. “When you’re not around it’s like I lost a chunk of myself.” He said, lowering his voice as it rung too loud in his ears. “Probably the only chunk of me worth a damn.”

Juniper frowned, taking his face gently between her hands. “John. You left me.” Jun’s eyes searched him, looking through his facade, his skin, directly into him.

“You told me to.” Hancock said gently, finally able to hold his eyes on hers. “Said I was right about wanting a different life.”

“Oh, god John.” Jun’s groan was full of pain and brought on a spout of tears. “That’s not what I wanted!” She surged forward, curling her still bloody fists around the collar of his blouse. “I wanted you to help me put 2077 behind me, I wanted you to help me put Nathan to rest!” She pulled him into her, cradling him gently against her chest as she lifted his chin to meet his eyes. “You were right about me needing to move on.”

The ghoul began to laugh, a terrible, broken sound ripping through him, shaking his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around Jun as she held him, tears replaced with a scowl.

“I thought…” He began, but Jun interrupted.

“You are the absolute worst.”

“That you had came to your senses…”

“I hate you. I hate you so much!” Jun said, shaking her head.

“Goddammit, Juniper, I love you.”

Jun stopped frowning at him and began laughing herself, rubbing the leftover tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. When she looked down at him this time, she was smiling. He ran a thumb over her chin, relishing her closeness. The little pieces of his heart picked themselves up from the floor and became whole again. He’d been stupid, jumping to conclusions and running away again, right after he told her he wouldn’t. He’d make it right, starting right now.

“I love you.” He repeated, the room steadying itself against her. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."

He could live off her laughter, her smell. Even in the wasteland she smelled like fresh flowers. She propped herself up on her knees, taking his face between both her hands. Although she had been holding a gun since before he knew her, she still had the softest skin. She placed a kiss carefully on his forehead, laughing as his empty brows wrinkled together. She kissed both his cheekbones, nuzzling her nose against each. When she kissed the hollow of his nose he laughed with her, cupping the back of her neck as she kissed his chin. Juniper tasted like tarberries and sugar bombs and everything good in the world. When her teeth grazed his bottom lip he felt an all new kind of high. His right hand tangled in her white hair, pulling her in while the other held her tenderly by the jaw. Hancock struggled to stay upright, his body weak from withdrawal but his heart not listening. While Juniper’s touch was better than any chem and one he was ready to be addicted to, there were other things putting nails in his coffin. His arms began shaking, forcing him to release her and lean away.

“I’m sorry,” he began, but Jun only smiled gently.

Juniper rose from the floor and helped the ghoul to his feet, letting him put his weight on her as she led him to the red sofa. Once settled, Jun pulled a canister from her jacket pocket before removing it and folding it over the sofa. She ran her thumb over the ridges of his chin, coaxing him to open his mouth for her. Hancock was drowning in her eyes, her very presence seemed like an illusion, some awful hallucination from withdrawal. He didn't want to look away for fear she would disappear just as magically as she had came. In one of the most pointed acts of intimacy, Jun carefully fed him the chem, her hand staying on his chin as he inhaled, held, then slowly exhaled. When he was able to breathe steady again, hands no longer shaking, he ran his fingers through her hair.

“All that karma stuff is bullshit,” Hancock rasped, voice filling the room like the thick radiated fog rolling in off the coast. “Because no one like me should be this lucky.”

Jun huffed, shaking her head and pulling him close by his lapels. “Shut up and let me love you.”

Juniper laid back on the sofa, dragging Hancock forward with her. His black eyes roamed her face, noting every new scratch he had missed in their time apart. Happiness spread to her eyes as she watched him through colorless lashes. The world was back in order again, at least, as much as it could be in the wastes. His hands found their way beneath her T-shirt, searching for the scar on her abdomen from the last time they'd been together. Of course he couldn't find it, he sighed against her, the stimpack worked wonders. Beneath him, Juniper closed her eyes and hummed at his touch. How she had missed him, his presence, his voice, his smell. His thumb was tracing circles on the edge of her ribs and it set every nerve on fire. Suddenly desperate to be closer, Jun delicately went about the task of opening each historic button.

Hancock growled at her touch, his hands darting up into catch her wrists. “Easy.”

Jun placed a gentle kiss on his bare shoulder. “Yes, Mayor.”

Hancock's laughter was something she had missed, that, and the little groan he let out in reaction to her touch. The sun setting outside cast shadows through the windows, dancing over the ghoul and his partner. Dipping to catch her ear between his teeth, he nipped at her before whispering.

“Last chance sunshine,” his breath was hot against her neck, “do you want me?”

Her nails dug into his shoulders and her legs curled around his waist. Jun moaned, turning to catch his lips with her own. Her actions answered and Hancock purred in satisfaction. He made quick work of her pants, kissing her bruised knees as they slid loose. Jun pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it across the room, gasping when the ghoul pushed her back into the sofa, hovering above her. She licked her lips in anticipation, his eyes roaming over her hungrily. Hancock caught her mouth with his, purring as her tongue fought it's way into his mouth. Their bodies tangled into a mess of sweet whimpers and breathless confessions of love as if tomorrow would never come. But it did, and as the sun rose the two were wrapped up on the sofa, sweat and sex permeating the air.

“Gods, I could marry you.” Juniper murmured against her lover’s bare chest. The hand he had wound in her hair stirred as he realized what she said.

Hancock had been trying to catch his breath for some time and she took it away all over again. The curves and valleys of her naked body were making it hard for him to concentrate on anything else, all his attention diverted to reminding himself this was real. Her lips were trailing across his chest, soft skin brushing over all his hardened scars. It would kill him, he decided, being this close to her would definitely kill him but damn it was worth it. Taking a deep breath, he tilted her chin to face him.

“Would that make you happy?” Hancock's voice was raw and grated the air.

“I suppose.” Jun’s foggy eyes roamed his face, paying close attention to his lips as they moved.

“You suppose?” He slurred the word, a smirk tugging at his cheek.

“I don't need to marry you to be happy with you,” Jun was circling her finger around his nipple as she spoke, eliciting a hiss from her ghoul. “It was just a passing thought.”

“Mhmm.” Hancock closed his eyes, his head dizzying with her touch.

The subject faded with the morning and the two lovers remained on the sofa until a rumbling sounded in Juniper's stomach, demanding food. The Mayor slid from beneath her and pulled a box of Fancy Lads from his desk. As he came to sit back beside her he palmed a handful of mentats and sighed.

“I’d really thought about getting sober this time,” Hancock said as he passed Jun the snack cakes.

“It better not have been for me,” Jun shoved three cakes into her mouth at once. “Don't you dare go changing for me.” Her words were punctuated by the powdered sugar that puffed from her full cheeks.

“You don’t mind it, sunshine?”

“If I did, it would have come up earlier don’t you think?” Jun rolled her eyes.

“You're right. Wouldn't want to lose all this charm anyway.” He grinned big at her before popping the pills and following with a cake.

She snuggled into him, a light laugh gusting over his bare skin. They both were still nude, Jun had his tattered blouse draped over her lap lazily, covering her sex. Hancock stretched, wrapping an arm around his lady and pulling her close. He buried his face in her hair, trying to hide the little tear of happiness that had found it’s way to the surface as he watched her in the easy light of the afternoon. Together, like this, it was easy to forget that outside these walls the whole world had gone to shit. Right here there was peace. The smell of tarberries and gunpowder and their sweat, it was like a fairytale for the ghoul. He was purring happily into her hair when Jun pulled away, looking at him quizzically.

“Guess you were that piece I’d always been missing.” the ghoul said, looking softer than she had ever seen him. Jun leaned into him, pressing a quick kiss to his gnarled lips. “That, and the toe I still can’t find.”

Juniper pushed him away, shaking her head with a big smile on her face. “You big idiot. Gods I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for hanging out, there is more to come. I've been like, dead stressed over getting a new job so my creativity has a cork in it. Angst inbound for these two.


	8. The One Without Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> do you still call it making love when you're just trying to keep your heart from falling apart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Game spoilers mentioned for   
> Macready   
> The Institute  
> Virgil  
> The Glowing Sea
> 
> Idk maybe more? Tbh if you haven't finished the game probably do that cause we're getting into character specific decisions that effect this story so some things may be spoiled for you, regardless of how vague I'm trying to keep some of them.
> 
> i've heckie updated the playlist and for this particular chapter i suggest Downtown by Majical Clouds and Please Forgive Me by William Fitzsimmons.

Weeks passed uneventfully. The sole survivor of vault one eleven found happiness in the company of her newfound love. The stress of the wastes were forgotten in quick kisses and small pills that intensified already mind-blowing moments of bliss. With their coupling gone public, Hancock and Juniper were more open with their affections. Many nights were spent drinking with friends in the old Red Rocket garage, trying to ignore the responsibilities that were weighing all of them down. On one such night, Nick and Macready had gathered around the fire beneath the old awning and were already a few beers deep in conversation when Hancock and Juniper stumbled into the camp.

“Bout time you show your face around here,” Macready said, tossing an unopened beer at the ghoul. Hancock caught it with a grin and came to sit across from the the others, folding his long legs beneath him.

“Sorry,” Jun said, dropping a bag full of supplies from her shoulder. “That's mostly my fault. I have news.”

Nick tilted his withered hat back on his head, eyes glowing against the night. Macready pulled his legs in so that he could scoot closer to hear what she had to say. Once settled with a beer of her own, Juniper began, pulling a collection of papers out of the duffle she dropped.

“So, we just got back from the Glowing Sea and guess who has blueprints!” Jun wiggled the papers in the firelight, passing them to an eager Nick Valentine. “We just need to get these to Sturges and then I get to probably become a pile of goo when this turns out to be a lie.”

Hancock scoffed, grabbing another beer from the pile by the fire. “Easy just isn’t your style anyway, Sunshine.”

Macready was leaning over Nick’s shoulder, reading the scrawls of scraps needed to build the teleportation machine that would be taking Jun to the institute. It made his already heavy head spin. When Nick returned the paperwork to Juniper, Macready spoke.

“Are you excited?” He asked. “This is the closest you’ve been to getting your son back.”

Only, it wasn’t Jun who replied. Hancock’s voice took the merc by surprise. The ghoul tossed his empty beer bottle into the campfire and shouted. “Hell yeah, going to put a boot to the institute and get our boy!”

Jun’s face lit up in the soft orange light as she regarded her lover. Her red bandanna covered her smile, but the gentle crinkle of her eyes was enough for her company. Her hand found it’s way onto his knee, making Hancock turn his ragged grin on her before taking her face between his hands and pulling her into a shrouded kiss. Nick chuffed at them, shaking his head.

“With the two of you for parents, that kid’s gonna need all the luck he can get.”

Hancock sobered some at the title, curling his arm around Jun as she leaned on his shoulder. “Parents,” he murmured.

“Frankly, I’m terrified.” Juniper told Macready. “Even with all this extra time, I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Macready’s smile took up his whole face, stretching his cheeks and squinting his eyes. He nudged Nick, taking another beer from the pile as he muttered something about parents being the worst.

“That just means you’re doing good,” the merc said, “From one parent to another, the worry is half the journey.”

The night drifted on in the same light tone. Macready somehow ended up hung over Hancock’s shoulders, their scuffle long forgotten and forgiven. The merc was telling stories of his chubby baby boy, how scared he was at things that seemed frivelous now, like the time Duncan accidentally drank a bottle of gwenette pale. Hancock, who had actually stopped drinking long before his friend, was saying how much father was like son. Daisy was still waiting for word on the cure they sent to the Capital Wastes, but positivity surrounded them tonight. Even Jun joined in, musing about future play dates between their boys. Only Nick stayed sober, glowing eyes still studying the blueprints Jun had gathered. This was the next step for all of them. This would take them to The Institute.

The old synth was unsteady, it all seemed too easy to him. Relatively, of course. If anyone could make it work, it would be Jun; but at what cost? With the Institute’s presence growing, it was unlikely that their vault dweller had gone unnoticed. If they could only gauge what would be on the other side of this teleporter, maybe they could be ready. Nick was deep in thought when Juniper sat down next to him.

“Hey Valentine,” her voice always made his name sound like velvet, made his skin tingle. When he looked at her, his own eyes reflected off her face, casting shadows over her deep scars.

“Juniper?”

“It’s a trap, isn't it,” she mused, taking the papers back from him and folding them into her jacket pocket.

“I'd bet on it.” Nick said. “There's just no way those assholes let you walk right in.” He lit up a cigarette, rolling it between his metal fingers before offering it to Jun for a drag. She pulled her bandanna away, taking a deep breath.

“Virgil says it will only take one body. I'm going in alone.” she gave him back the cigarette, leaving her mouth exposed. Nick watched her carefully, her cheeks folding into a frown as she turned to check on the two men who had fallen quiet behind them.

Hancock had ended up with Macready asleep in his lap. The ghoul had a smile on his face and a beer in his hand, but his old tricorn was pushed over his eyes, showing no sign of noticing his lover’s gaze. Jun turned to Nick, grey eyes always meeting his. The synth appreciated how organic she could make him feel, like he was just another man and not some machine falling to pieces. He took a long drag of his cigarette before tilting his head to Hancock and asking.

“And what does the Mayor think about that?”

“He doesn't know.” Juniper pulled at the skin on her thumb as she spoke. “I'm worried he’ll tell me to wait, to find another option. It's a one way, one time trip, Nick.”

When she looked up at him beneath her colorless lashes, his heart clenched. Suddenly she wasn't the hardened Minuteman General anymore, the wasteland washed away from her features. It was as if no time had passed and the two of them were back in his office in Diamond City, talking about her husband's killer and her missing baby. This was Juniper James, the mother. The memory flooded him, one of the few he cherished because it was his and his alone.

Juniper was staying in the detective agency because she had no caps to her name and Valentine wasn't the type to send a woman out to fend for herself. A day earlier they had found Kellogg's hideout and she had unashamedly shot the man with a mini-nuke the second she laid eyes on him. It was a testament to just how ruthless a woman she could be. In the two months Nick had spent with her, Juniper had proved herself a killer. But she was a ruthless killer with morals, and that was enough for the detective to develop a small crush. When he breached the top of the stairs with a beer for her, she was cleaning her 10 mm in his bed. The mere sight of her was enough to make him weak in the knees.

“Valentine,” she said in that silky tone. “C’mere.” She patted the bed beside her and he took a seat, sitting the beer aside.

“Everything ok?”

“Oh I’m more than ok, Nicky.” her pet name made his circuts tingle. “And I wanted to thank you, for everything you've done for me.”

Juniper’s legs were crossed over one another and she looked younger than a mother should be in the overalls Ellie let her borrow. Her self consciousness was forgotten around him, so she wasn't covering her face. As she leaned into him, his eyes cast a yellow glow across her pale lips. If was as if time had stopped. He could hear her steady breathing, the sound of fabric stretching as she moved, even the smallest electric vibration from the lightbulb that hung over them. Nick stopped breathing as she curled her fingers around the lapel of his trench, pulling him close.

His lips were cool against hers, his body not capable of the same heat she produced. When her tongue darted across his bottom lip, his system felt like it would shut down at her touch. A moment passed them before Nick regained control of his limbs and snaked his flesh hand into her hair. Jun moaned against him, pressing herself into his chest and pushing him back against the mattress until he was horizonal beneath her. She straddled him, kissing down his cheek until she reached the hollow where his wires were exposed. Nick tensed, the metal hand on her thigh digging gently into her skin. He could feel her warm breath against his broken skin and it made his insides whir.

Jun’s mouth came back down over his, erasing any thoughts he was forming of objection. It wasnt until her deft fingers were unhooking the button of his trousers that he realized how far this had gone. Nick put his hand over hers, carefully sitting up with her still in his lap. His eyes were closed, but he could hear the pounding of her heart only inches away.

“We can't.” He told her, voice unchanged by their proximity.

“Is it me?” Jun asked, her eyes roaming his face. “I'm sorry, I won't push you.” She recoiled, folding her hands in her lap.

“It's not you,” Nick began, taking her hand back. “We physically can't. I wasn't built for it sweetheart.”

Jun let out a quiet, single laugh before leaning her forehead against his. “Nick Valentine if you think I like you for your parts, then you're a worse detective than you let on.”

Juniper snatched his trilby from the bed and set it snugly back over his head, placing a ghost of a kiss on his nose as she leaned back to regard him. His cheeks didn't flush red like Nate’s used to and his eyes were almost too bright to meet in the dim loft, but he was just as much a man as any she’d taken before. Damn if she didn't make sure he knew it too, her hands back to their exploration of his torso. She tugged on his tie and brought him close to her lips once more, waiting for him to close the gap in consent. When Nick didn't move, Jun released him.

“I'm just a machine, doll. It wouldn't work out.” Nick's voice sounded defeated.

“I won't push you for something you don't want,” she replied. “But you're a good man, Valentine, and when you're ready, I'll be here for you.”

But that hadn't been a promise she could keep, and it wasn't her fault. Time passed and the two didn't mention the kiss they shared again. It had been his demise, Nick thought back to himself, splitting up to meet her in Goodneighbor. Because the moment Hancock introduced himself to her, Nick had lost his chance and he knew it. While their relationship hadn't consummated until recently, Nick had been the one to suffer as their third wheel those first months traveling. Their chemistry was more than anything he could match and when he finally found closure for his own past with Jun’s loyal assistance, it was too late. He was satisfied to be her friend, though, and would continue to put his every effort into protecting and respecting her as time went forward. Which was why, right now, looking at her in the moonlight made his heart heavy.

“I swear, if anything happened to you doll, the whole Commonwealth would just start digging until they could get in at those mechanical bastards.” Nick reached for her hand, cradling it between both of his. His presence alone comforted her, and she leaned onto his shoulder, loose hair falling over her eyes.

“I regret things weren't different between us Nicky,” Jun sighed. “But I'm so glad you're here now.”

All the detective could do was pull her into a hug and press his lips into her hair. “I'll always have your back, sweetheart. Long as you'll have me.”

“Will you come with us tomorrow?” Jun didn't raise her head. “Make sure John doesn't lose it when I get zapped.”

“Of course.”

And with that Juniper found sleep in the arms of her oldest friend. Nick carried her to the little bedroom inside the rocket and tucked her in, placing one last kiss on her nose before he stepped back outside where Hancock had awoken with his passing. The ghoul was nursing a cigar, his back to the doorway. Macready's sleeping form had been transferred to the bedroll in the garage and his snores echoed quietly off the walls of the Red Rocket.

“I know you love her,” the ghoul’s raspy voice carried over the light of his smoke. “Do I need to worry about it?”

The synth regarded the Mayor. The two were never particularly close, but mutual respect had fostered a rather decent friendship. It didn't hurt that they were in love with the same woman. Nick lit his own cigarette and walked over to Hancock.

“Not a thing in the world could take that girl from you,” the detective said matter of factly. “Least of all me.”

“Good.” Hancock took a long drag and blew a ring of smoke. “Cause I'd hate to duel you for a woman, Nicky.”

Valentine chuckled at his use of Jun’s pet name. Perhaps the Mayor was picking up more than he let on, but then again, Nick knew that already. Hancock wasn't the kind to let even the little things get past him. The sudden thought made Nick curious as to how Juniper was able to keep such important pieces like one way teleportation a secret. As the synth began to ponder it, Hancock spoke.

“I know she's going alone.” Nick looked at him then, yellow eyes studying the ghoul's face. “Just because Juniper doesn't want to talk to me about it doesn't mean I don't know.”

“Ah,” that explained it, thought Nick.

“I wouldn't stop her, though, and frankly I find it bullshit she thinks I would.”

“So you heard her then,” Nick affirmed.

“Of course. I'm sober, Valentine. Have been for hours.” Hancock dropped the last of his cigar and ground it under his boot. “Why would she confide it in you and not me, what am I missing?”

Nick fumbled with his cigarette, more a physical crutch than an addiction. Wasn't like he could reap any of its benefits when none of his parts were organic. Finally he followed suit and dropped the butt on the ground. The two men were now standing off in the last flicker of the fire, hands shoved into their respective pockets.

“She can't disappoint me, John. There's nothing riding on me, no risks.” Valentine looked out over the edge of the settlement, scanning the wastes for the right words. “She can't lose me if she tried.”

“Is that all?” Hancock’s tone was back to it's sour sarcasm. “How the fuck would she disappoint me? What are you getting at Valentine?”

“All I'm saying, kid, is that she holds your opinion way higher than mine so she chooses her battles with you.”

Hancock grumbled a few more curses before continuing. “So how do I fix that?”

Nick shoot his head before putting a hand on Hancock's shoulder. “Love isn't something that needs fixing, it just needs patience.”

Hancock pretended to gag and brushed Nick's hand away before folding his arms over his chest and turning on his heel to leave.

“All I know is, you better be careful Valentine. Won't be the first man I've killed over her.”

 

Morning broke over the Red Rocket and woke it’s inhabitants. Jun rubbed her eyes with the back of her fist, stretching out her legs on the little mattress in the only room in the garage. An arm tightened around her waist as she moved, Hancock nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. Juniper curled into him, tossing a leg over his hip and tilting her head to place a kiss on his forehead. This was bliss. Waking up safe, with a full stomach and a warm body that loved you were truly the only things a person could hope for these days. The ghoul purred at his lover’s touch, clinging to her and refusing to open his eyes to the harsh light of day. Just five more minutes of happiness before they set off into the unknown, that was all he wanted. Juniper obliged his unvoiced request, running her cold hands under his unbuttoned blouse, tracing the valleys of his molted skin with her fingertips.

“I must still be dreaming,” Hancock groaned into her, his teeth grazing over her ear. Jun’s nails dug into his skin at his bite, leaving little red lines in their wake.

“Open your eyes baby, I’m as real as it gets.” Jun’s fingers traced the curve of his hip, dipping into his unbuttoned trousers. Hancock did as commanded and opened his eyes to watch her lips as they curved into a coy smile.

Gods he was burning for her. He had to get closer to her, nothing else mattered in that moment. The old bed whined at his shifted weight as he rolled himself over her. With a growl that sounded almost feral, he captured her lips and bit down. Juniper gasped and rolled her hips into him, grabbing the front of his pants and holding him down on her. The room dissolved into a mess of moans and roaming hands. Hancock’s fists curled in the collar of her tshirt and with one deft move he ripped it open down the front, exposing her bare chest. His hands on her felt like home, like the part of her that had been missing, like an extension of herself. Juniper’s hand curled around the base of him, pulling him free of his trousers with a contented sigh. He pushed into her palm, teeth closing over her shoulder so tight it would leave a mark for days after. With a shudder, Jun’s grip tightened as she took control, sitting up and pushing him back onto his knees in front of her. Her ghoul lover was the picture of yearning. His black eyes followed the every move of her lips, intense as a radstorm.

They fucked in desperation, everything that she didn’t want to say to him spilled from her gentle caress, his answers embedded in the shaking of his hands against her bare skin. From her kiss came the apologies that she didn’t dare make vocal for fear of making the impending danger real. Hancock left a trail of fire on her breast, teeth scraping skin, leaving bruises that claimed her body as his. It wasn’t until he came up for air, thumbs digging into her hips, that he met her eyes. Juniper was crying, grey eyes half-lidded and dragging across his skin like a knife. It was in the thick air, it was in every drip of sweat, it was in the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips before dipping into another kiss. It was the word neither of them was ready to say, so they didn’t say it. No goodbyes. Not ever.

“I love you,” Jun whispered, her hair sticky wet on her forehead. Hancock was motionless beneath her, his face scrunched and unreadable. His chest rumbled in a soft growl as he rolled, holding himself inside her, relishing their last moments of intimacy.

“I adore you, Juniper James. You’re the best decision I ever made.” Hancock kissed her tenderly, sliding out of her and off the bed to don his trousers. The room smelled of their climax and he wanted to wear it for the rest of his life, the salty sweet taste of her still on his fingers. Jun’s made a small sound of regret at her new emptiness, reaching a hand out to pull him back to the bed. He fell gracefully back over the top of her.

“I need the answers,” she whispered again, holding him in an embrace like a vice. “I swear to all the gods I’ll come back to you.”

Naked from his walls, heart bleeding, Hancock frowned. “Baby, I’ll follow you to the second end of the world. If that Institute doesn’t give you back to me, I’ll dig my way down there and slit each damn throat I find.”

He kissed her again and this time, when he stood from the bed he pulled her to her feet. Jun slid easily back into her jeans, fishing in her duffle bag for a new t-shirt. Once they were dressed, Hancock led the way into the garage where he woke Macready with a swift kick in the side. Juniper found Valentine sitting on the lookout above the hill with a rifle in his lap. She nodded to him that it was time to move and he followed her without comment. The tension between the group was suffocating. It wasn’t until Macready cleared his throat and offered to carry something that Hancock’s shoulders relaxed a centimeter.

“Why, you gonna run off with it?” the Mayor kidded.

“You wish I would,” Mac retorted.

“Ladies, ladies.” Juniper laughed, “Let’s save the gutshots for the enemy.”

But she did slide the duffle from her shoulder and pass it off to the merc with a smile. Hancock trotted up beside Valentine, elbowing him in the arm. The detective scowled at him as they crossed over the bridge to Sanctuary Hills. The settlement gates rose nearly eight feet high, tires and loose steel jutting out at awkward angles. It was an eyesore, but it was effective. The fence ran parallel to the river that circled the crumbling houses. Rising out of the wall of junk was Sanctuary itself, a veritable shanty town that Juniper had quite nearly built with her own two hands. Sturges met the group at the gates, holding the letter Jun had sent out ahead.

“I’ve cleared out a pallet of concrete just south of the old tree. If you’re ready to built this thing, I done got all the supplies we need.” The mechanic grinned at Jun, brushing back his thick black hair and smearing grease on his forehead in the process.

Juniper dug the blueprints out of her jacket pocket and handed them over to Sturges as he led them further into town to the location in question. Jun fell into step behind him, the two buzzing like bees in conversation. She was laughing and waving her hands in shapes that mimicked the drawings on the papers. Valentine, who was now wearing a sly grin, returned an elbow jab to Hancock.

“You know they had a thing. You planning to give Sturges the talk too?” the synth didn’t wait for a reply, instead stopping at the shanty sales table to stock up on ammunition and cigarettes. Hancock turned his glare on Macready, who merely shrugged before finding Curie in the crowd of settlers and trotting off with a shrug.

When he caught up to Jun and Sturges, they were hugging. Jun looked excited and when they parted Sturges was watching her with a soft smile. Hancock bristled for a moment, before he reminded himself that he was no virgin either and that it was his body that smelled of her sex this day. Jealousy was a poor man’s sin, he grumbled, approaching them.

“Sturges said he can build it in a day!” Juniper jumped for her lover, her eyes sparkling. Hancock caught her easily, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in.

“That’s great news, Sunshine.” He said, without gusto but with a smile. Juniper brushed a kiss across the hollow of his nose before breaking free of his grasp and turning back to Sturges and chittering like a little bird.

His lover was happy and so should he be, but Hancock couldn’t shake the sense of dread. It was likely that by the end of the night, Juniper would be zapped inside a place that none of them had ever seen, completely on her own. Now, he knew full well that his woman could hold her own but Hancock had seen those damned synths in action before. Not long ago had he been sewing up a hole in his own shoulder from one of their rifles. If she was ambushed, the way he figured this stupid infiltration would go, it would be a lot easier if her was there at her back. Shit, if anyone was with her. He’d even send that bigot of a tin can Danse if he could, that’s how worried he was becoming. Pacing in front of the main house, Hancock dosed himself two canisters of Jet before going inside and looking for Mama Murphy. He carried enough on him that he was sure to have whatever she needed for a trip to the future. Only, when he plopped down cross legged in front of her old blue chair he couldn’t do it. The last time Jun had begrudgingly gave her a box of mentats, the old woman nearly fell down dead. After making sure she wasn’t going to kick the bucket for real, Juniper had told everyone in the settlement to steer clear of giving her chems or earn her wrath.

“There are big things out there for your girl.” the old woman said, rocking herself forward to look down at the ghoul. Hancock scowled.

“I’d don’t like it.”

“I don’t need to see the future to know she’s going to hurt after this. You need to be here when she returns, a safe harbor in a storm.” Murphy put a wrinkled hand on his shoulder. “That’s all you can do ones like her, ones just like you.”

Hancock’s scowl deepened to a growl and he shot up from his seat and stormed out the door. He caught a glimpse of Jun, working diligently next to the mechanic. No, he wouldn’t bother them, this was too important to slow down. Instead he went off in search of Nick Valentine. The detective was leaning against the southernmost watchtower. He was chatting idly with the old Vault Tech Rep, George. Valentine noticed Hancock’s approach and clapped George on the shoulder before taking the steps to meet the Mayor halfway.

“Mayor,” Nick said.

“Toaster.” Hancock folded his arms one over the other.

“You still mad?”

“Not at all tin man. Actually, I’m thrilled at the idea of the love of my life being evaporated.”

“Have you told her that?” It was Valentine’s turn to fold his arms in front of himself.  
A cold wind blew between them, rustling the deadened leaves and tossing crumpled papers across the settlement. Fall was closing in on the wastelands, drying out the air and setting a deep chill into the bones of its inhabitants. Tension bubbled between the men, Valentine raising a lit cigarette to his lips before sighing. His duster flapped in the wind, the picture perfect poster of the noir era. Hancock’s jaw flexed as he worked up a witty retort, but when he finally opened his mouth Jun came jogging up with a smile as wide as crater. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket, her colorless hair billowing around her bruised eyes.

“Say Juniper,” Valentine began, with a sideways glance to rile the ghoul. Hancock stiffened in anticipation. “When did you stop wearing that ratty old bandanna?”

Hancock visibly relaxed as she replied. “Oh, well. I finally figured a face is an awful shitty thing to be worried about out here. Plus, if this mug scares the riff-raff then I suppose that works in my favor.” Her hand sought out his in a gesture of solidarity. It was, after all, the love of a good man that made her confident enough to show her face again. Hancock chuffed, a small grin breaking free.

“What’s the word, Jun Bird?” the ghoul squeezed her hand and pulled her closer so that he could lazily drape his arm around her shoulders. Her mere closeness calmed his buzzing mind.

“Sturges is about to start the generators. I’m going to lock and load, do you want to join me?” Her question, while presented to both men was directed to her lover. Hancock tensed again at the subject.

“I’ll go see if Sturges needs an extra hand,” Nick offered. Jun gave him a timid smile before turning her attention on Hancock.

“Talk to me.”

“Nothing to say, Sunshine. I’m not going to stop you but I’m damn sure not going to say goodbye.” He spun her in close, pressing a kiss to her forehead and wrapping his other arm around her waist. “Go get our boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boop de doop, thanks for giving me your time.  
> i'm like 99.99999% sure vault tec rep doesn't have a name and i always call him georgie so, if that's wrong give me a heads up. 
> 
> if you're a kudos giver and you've returned for more reads, please drop a comment just even mentioning read. i do have anon comments on. i think. but i honestly can't believe anyone even reads this mess, seriously. 
> 
> there will probably be a chunk of chapters added because i'm disassociating pretty bad this week and this is my happy place. lol anywho
> 
> reminder that going forward there will probably be some spoilers. next chapter will involve Juniper's first trip into the institute and if you haven't played through that, i don't want anything to slip for you.


	9. The One With The Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *spoilers*  
> It's not just the teleportation that has Juniper's skin crawling with disgust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCKING SPOILERS  
> SPOILERS  
> SPOILERS PARA LA INSTITUTE  
> SPOILERS FOR THE INTSITUTE  
> SPOILERSSSSSSS
> 
> playlist song for this one is How We Used to Love by Siv Jakobsen
> 
> again, playlist url if you don't wanna go back and find it is:  
> https://play.spotify.com/user/ravenclaw182/playlist/3cbValnlechVrZoyBGDlJN

Juniper stood with her hands on her hips, a shotgun strapped to her back beside her Ripper. The sun was setting overhead, casting oranges and reds across the giant metal contraption Sturges had built for her. It was a monstrosity of five generators, wires wrapping around wires, and an old terminal setup that Sturges had restored himself. The launch pad was framed by towers of metal that came together like a bell jar. If anything, it definitely looked like a teleportation device. A small crowd had gathered around the thing, staring on in awe. Whispers circled, everyone providing their own rumor of what it did and why. Curie stood beside Macready, her hands folded neatly in front of her, lips pressed into a thin line. The merc pushed his hat high up on his head, locking eyes across the way with Hancock, who had his fists balled and tucked under his arms. Nick Valentine was speaking softly to Sturges by the terminal, hashing and rehashing how the operation would go down. Not a single member of the crowd, close or otherwise, said a word to the white-haired wanderer.

Sturges stretched upright, pulling the goggled from his eyes and dropping them back around his neck and running a hand through his hair. He nodded towards Juniper, flipping the power connection to the generators. The fat machines roared to life, drowning out the sound of everyone around her. A touch as light as a feather came at her bended elbow. Turning to face him, Jun couldn’t hide the fear in her eyes. Hancock’s small smile was enough to make her heart lurch into her throat, threatening to escape her entirely. Hancock said nothing, he wasn’t sure he could open his mouth and not tell her to forget about the entire trip. Instead, watching her carefully, he shrugged out of his red frock coat and and held it out for Jun to wear. In turn, she unstrapped her firepower and slid her arms into the coat one after another. It was more than any ‘I love you’ could have told her. He helped her strap her weapons back and tangled his fingers into hers proudly, leading her to the thing that would take her into the unknown.

“This is it boys,” she said, baring her teeth in a forced smile. “Mama don’t get dressed up for nothin’.” Nick chuckled, the only one catching the reference. He clapped a hand across Juniper’s shoulder as he passed her to take his place beside the Mayor.

“All good on my end, sugar.” Sturges told her. “Just stand real still in the middle of that circle and next thing you know you’ll be inside Institute walls. Probably.” The last part he muttered under his breath, slamming down the lever that set the towering metal cage buzzing like mad hornets.

Juniper stepped onto the launchpad, sending one last weary smile to her lover before squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath. The scent of him surrounded her and she mouthed a thank you, hoping he would see it as she tugged his coat tighter. The buzzing vibrated on her skin, raising the hairs on her arms. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe, her lungs constricting like someone had sealed her in a vacuum. Her eyes shot open and all she could see was blinding blue light.

Feet crashed against ground and Jun tumbled head over heels, gasping for air. Chest heaving, her mouth bobbed like a fish out of water before she finally got enough oxygen to start her mind working. She muttered every curse she could think of, new and old, rolling into a crouch and arming her shotgun. She’d have brought a lazer rifle but the absolute ripping power of a close range shotgun blast made the dark parts of her tingle with anticipation. Gooifying someone would never be as satisfying as skin tearing from skin.

Juniper took in her surroundings. The room was clear of any guards and as she cleared the doorway and picked her way around the console, she found there was no sign of life here at all. Butterflies attacked her stomach, forcing her to swallow back nausea. First things first, she told herself as she loaded holotapes in succession: one for the Railroad, one for Sturges, one to hold over Maxon’s head until he gave her what she wanted. As the last tape finished it little infiltration, a voice boomed over the loudspeaker, beaconing her into the elevator.

“I wondered if you might make it here,” the voice monologued. “I am known as Father, the Institute is under my guidance.”

“Then I’m here for you, ya brimey fucking bastard.” Juniper snarled.

“I know why you’re here and I’d like to speak to you face to face.”

Jun’s face scrunched in hatred. “Oh, I’d love to see your face. I’m going to wear it like a halloween mask you child thieving cuntcicle.” The voice gave no indication of being able to hear her responses, so she continued to sling threats as she slammed her hand into the big red elevator control.

“I can only imagine what you’ve heard, what you think of us. I’d like to show you the truth, make a better impression.”

“Impress my lily-white ass you goddamn testicle!” The elevator swirled down into the most sterile, fluorescent lobby she had ever scene. It looked like something out of an Unstopables comic, the villain’s evil laboratory. It also reeked of bleach.

The voice continued, rattling on about how it was the victim. That the search for scientific advances and preserving the lifestyles of prewar humanity were misunderstood. It was condescending and Jun fought off more bile as it rose against her tongue. It spoke of commonality and working together. Another snarl ripped from her lips and for a moment Juniper understood the kind of rage Hancock could toss around as feral.

“But that can wait,” it announced as she crossed the threshold into what looked like a holding room. “You are here for a very personal reason. You are here for your son.”

“And your blood.” Jun called out, head swiveling to find the owner of the voice. Instead, she stopped, as frozen as the day she watched Kellogg rip her baby from her dead husband’s arms. There, in a glass room, playing with a little red car, was the boy she saw in Kellogg’s memories. Her son. Her Shaun.

He wore a sterile white jumpsuit, the stark red hair she used to have sat fluffed over his eyes. When he noticed her, looked up in fear, she saw that he looked even more like Nate than he did as an infant. Big round eyes, black as a starless night locked onto her. He had Nathan’s square nose and high cheekbones. His lips puffed out in a pout of perpetual sadness like her own, though. Her hair, her lips, but none of her bravery, she thought as he backed himself into a corner at the sight of her.

“Goddamn them,” she hissed, taking another step towards the door and slamming her hand down on the keypad. “So many years gone.”

“Who are you?” His tiny voice shook just like his hands. Juniper silently cursed herself for becoming so comfortable with the monstrosity that was her face. Of course he would be scared, this place would have never let him see something as unclean as wasteland side effects.

Juniper crouched down so that she was eye level with him and gave her friendliest smile. “I’m your mom, Shaun. I’ve waited so long to see you.”

That was not, apparently, the right choice of words. Shaun cowered in on himself, calling out for help. “Father! Father, help!”

“It’s ok Shaun, you’re ok.” The urge to slam her fists against the glass vibrated her fingertips. Jun flexed her hands open and closed, urging the little boy in front of her to speak. “Are you hurt? Where is everyone?”

“Father, she’s trying to take me! Save me! Help!”

“Who is Father, Shaun?” Juniper rose to her feet, standing back. “Where is he?”

At that moment the doors slid open and a man of greying hair stepped through. Shaun visibly relaxed and Juniper narrowed her eyes, clicking back the hammer on her shotgun. The old man wore a lab coat and rested his hands casually in his pockets, shaking his head at the small boy.

“S9-23 recall code Cirrus.” He told Shaun, who promptly whirred mechanically and collapsed to the ground like a rag doll. Juniper lunged forward, jamming the barrel of the gun into the old man’s stomach.

“Father, I presume?”

“Fascinating and disappointing. We’ve only just begun to test emotional stimuli. I am so very sorry.” The old man bore a wide smile, ignoring the iron prodding him. “Please try to keep an open mind. I recognize your journey here has been emotional and challenging, but let’s question first and shoot later.”

Juniper lowered her shotgun but only so much that it was now lightly trained on the elder’s groin. “Spit it out, geezer.”

“Ah, levity. Proof that you adapt easily to new stressful situations.”

“Where the fuck is my son, Asshole?”

He smiled again, raising his hands in surrender. “You have suffered a great deal to find your son. Your tenacity and dedication have been rewarded.” His hands fell again to his sides. “It’s good to finally meet you, after all this time. I am Shaun. I am you son.”

“Bullshit.” Jun jerked the gun up, training it on his face.

“I assure you, I am entirely honest. In the vault--”

“Bullshit!” she asserted.

“You had no sense of the passage of time.”

“Kellogg…” she tested, the name like sludge out of her lips.

“Was a cyborg. You believed ten years had passed, is it really so hard to believe in sixty?” He still did not flinch away from her aim. “That is the reality. I am here, raised by the Institute and now it’s leader.”

“BullSHIT! BULLSHIT!” Juniper dropped her gun, throwing her hands in the air, fists coming down on the glass beside her. Her mind pleaded with her to believe and her heart begged to hope that is wasn’t true. “They kidnapped you! Stole you!”

“Irrelevant now. They did what was necessary to ensure human survival.” Father’s tone was cold, calculated. “They were creating the perfect machine. Synthetic organics. But they needed human dna. The wasteland could only offer what was corrupted, thus they discovered me. I became the base to every synthetic organic we’ve created. I am their Father. Through science, family. Just like you and me.”

“And you’ve been down here, the whole time?” her voice was no more than a whisper.

“Yes. I expect you have questions. Please, anything I can do to help you understand.”

“Why didn’t you come for me?” The question sounded pathetic, even as it slipped off her tongue. But her heart was raw, struggling to accept that this man thirty years her elder could possibly be the baby she so briefly held in her arms.

“I did not expect you would ever wake.” Shaun, old, cold Shaun stated.

“And when I did?”

“I did not wish to interfere for risk of shock.”

“But now?”

“You’ve learned to much about the new world on your own, adapted. I knew that if you made it this far, you would be able to handle the truth.”

“I don’t like it.” Jun’s lip pulled back into another snarl. “How could you lead this way, forsake every living being above you?” that’s not how I raised you, she wanted to scream, but it would be a lie. She had no hand in raising him. This was her son only by blood.

“I know it will be hard to become accustomed to our ways, but give it time. Stay with me, let me show you what lies beneath the rumors. Spend time with me, mother.”

The word tore through her like a bullet, her knees going weak. “Shaun, your father…” she didn’t have the energy to finish the thought. You became what killed him and you loved them so much that you left him there to rot in front of me.

“I’ve been over the files. An unfortunate bit of collateral damage. I won’t lie, for the longest time I never questioned who my parents were. I accepted my place and that was that. However, with old age comes regret. It was no coincidence that your path crossed with Kellogg. I found it a fortunate way to resolve myself of the criminal and allow you - us - a small amount of revenge.”

“I nuked the bastard.”

“I know. I am sorry, for the pain he caused you. But what matters now is that you and I have the chance to begin again.”

“I think I need to sit down,” Juniper’s head was spinning, worse than any drug induced spiral could ever cause. Shaun held his hand out, not touching her but inviting her closer.

“Come, we can sit on my balcony and talk about whatever you like. Can I offer you a drink?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have any whisky underground, would you?” Jun accepted his invitation and settled her hand in the crook of his arm, allowing her son to lead her through a series of doors and stairs. While a drink might help to even out the spinning of the world, she couldn’t shake the slimy feeling that every word out of this mouth was nothing but poison.

“For you, Mother, only the best.”

 

\----------

 

It had been three weeks and not even the slightest tingle in the atmosphere around Sanctuary. The restless fall leaves scattered settlers as they avoided the corner where the teleporter stood like a steel skeleton. Sturges had taken up sleeping at the small radio tower, trying to catch any word that might cross the air about the missing survivor of Vault 111. Preston made the journey up from The Castle to offer any help he could, but resorted to pacing restlessly around the burnt remains of Juniper’s old home. Macready drifted back to Zimonja to check in with Cait and Strong, his sad eyes sweeping over Nate’s grave as he left Sanctuary. Piper wrote Nick, a collection of courser sightings involving rumors that a white haired woman with nasty scars had been traveling with the enemy. The detective didn’t put much value in it, knowing that most of the lips the rumors crossed were bringing in caps for their testimony. Deacon hadn’t been seen in as many days, effectively cutting Valentine off from any reliable contact with the Railroad. Even the Paladin weighed in, putting Brotherhood scouts on the lookout. Hancock tried not to rip out his eyes in the Tin Man’s presence because the flying fascists may be Jun’s only chance.

The ghoul had relented at week two and went back to Goodneighbor; to his Statehouse and his chems and Fahrenheit. Though he spent hours each day stacking and restacking boxes of mentats he didn’t dare take one, for fear he would miss the crucial news of Juniper’s whereabouts. Patience did not become him. His personal room had become it’s own warsite; the mattress flipped from the bed in a fit of rage, bottles stacked on bottles from sleepless nights. Valentine had taken up residence in the memory den, borrowing Kent’s old radio broadcast for his own use and checking in daily with the ghoul. He had, after all, promised Juniper he would take care of her lover. Though the job would be easier if she would just check in.

“This is stupid!” Hancock snapped at the synth peering outis his office window. “We should be out there, blowing a goddamn hole in the earth!”

Valentine folded his arms tersely. This was not a new argument, but with the sightings of Juniper supposedly doing the Institute’s work, Nick had lobbied for the defensive. “We should be here, waiting for Deacon’s word on Railroad movements. They’ve got every signal in the Commonwealth set to trap the next courser.”

“And what happens when all these rumors turn out to be just that? Will you just lay down and accept Jun is dead?” Hancocks hand shot out, knocking a stack of mentats off his desk. In the corner of the room Fahrenheit sighed.

“We should just do that now.” She muttered under her breath. A low snarl vibrated from the ghoul, sounding something close to feral. The woman shrugged and leaned casually against the wall, observing.

Without warning, light as bright as lightning struck the Statehouse, shaking the walls violently. Valentine stumbled away from the window and Fahrenheit dove into Hancock, pulling him into the corner of the room. The floor vibrated and ceased in the same moment, leaving each of them shellshocked. A guard burst into the room, falling over himself. Almost automatically, Nick was at the window, gun drawn, searching for any sign of attack. The city gates stood same as every day, Kleo stepped out from under the onning of Kill or Be Killed, lazer-sighted gaze scanning the perimeter. Beneath the Statehouse, Ham had dipped his head into the bar to check on it’s patrons. His eyes fixed on Magnolia, who was clutching her mic unsteady. She gave him a weary nod and he relaxed marginally, going back to the surface.

“What the fuck was that?” Hancock’s voice was full of fury. “Are we ok?”

His hand curled around Fahrenheit’s arm and she gave him an all good. Nick had sheathed his weapon and was speaking swiftly and softly to the second guard who entered, the ghoul’s mouth moving a mile a minute. “Hancock. It came from inside.”

The Mayor was on his feet in an instant, busting past the detective and the guard, hands clamping down on the stairrail, head swiveling. “Where,” He demanded, seeing no traced of the blinding light.

“Came from the bedroom, Sir,” was the raspy reply.

Hancock’s blouse billowed with the speed of his movements. Since giving Jun his coat he had taken to looking somewhat naked in only his yellowed blouse and blue vest. His heart was pounding, hope beating it’s vicious rhythm against his ribs. It had to be her. If it wasn’t a fucking nuke on his doorstep then it had to be his lover, only she would make such a wild entrance. He kicked open the double doors to his bedroom, unarmed all the way down to his emotions. Hope is a bastard like that. His voice came out nothing more than a breath.

“Jun.”

Juniper’s hair was down from it’s tie. The shaved sides had grown into fluffy bushels that puffed against her ears and lifted the parted length of her mohawk so that it settled just above her her shoulders. Her face was different, the bruising of her eyes was lightened by some sort of concealer and her scars did not stand out as angrily. Her lips were painted a soft red that made the ghoul’s heart skip a beat as he approached her. He didn’t take more than one step before he realized that the atmosphere was not one of a happy reunion. Hancock paused to take her in fully. She carried his coat over one arm, folded nicely. It even looked like it had been given a proper cleaning. Jun wasn’t wearing her Atom Cat’s leather jacket and blue jeans, but a black duster that properly covered most of her form. Her Pipboy still weighed at her side, something he couldn’t quite place different about it. It was the folded papers in her left hand that froze him. Something was very, very wrong.

“Juniper, Sunshine,” His voice shook, unable to hide the feelings that were overwhelming him, only vaguely aware of the crowd forming behind him at the door.

“I can not stay.” Her voice was low, carefully calculated to cover any emotions it might betray. Her eyes remained trained to the floor as she spoke. “It was all a lie. Everything.”

Hancock went to her, reaching out slowly. Jun closed the distance coldly, laying the coat in his outstretched hand instead of stepping into his embrace. The paper she carried was not one, but several letters each individually addressed to a friend she had left behind. Once she had given him her burdens she met his eyes. Her grey eyes were less sunken in than he had ever seen, meaning she had been sleeping. For all his hesitance to admit it, she did look better. Something unspoken passed between them in that moment and all the raw hope that had inflated him just minutes before burst like a bubble, shattering him from the inside out. In that instant he knew her thoughts.

“Don’t you dare leave me. Juniper James! Don’t you leave!” His hands shot out to grab her, catch her, keep her. But he missed and as another light exploded around them, taking her back to where she came from, he caught the faintest sob from her lips.

“He’s Shaun.”

Not a soul even dared to breath. Hancock stiffened, closing himself off from the world with one sharp breath. The Mayor slid his arms into his red coat and pulled it firmly around his shoulders. “Get out.” He barked.

It was Valentine who took the first step forward as the guards trickled away. The synth crossed the room until he was standing in the place Jun had just vanished. He bent, picking up the papers that Hancock had let fall, shuffling them and taking in each name. Deacon, Preston, Sturges; whose letter had a holotape folded inside of it. Piper and Valentine also had their own little envelopes. Nick gave pause when he didn’t find one with Hancock’s name on it and all but voiced his concern until he saw the chunk of papers as fat as a novel crumpling beneath the ghoul’s fist. Straightening, Valentine exited the room, stopping only briefly at the door to look back on his oldest friend.

“You know where to find me,” the detective murmmered.

“Get bent Nick,” came Hancock’s shaking voice.

With the doors closed, the ghoul fell to his knees, a scream of rage racking through him. It felt like losing her all over again, but worse. Worse because she had changed. Worse because they had gotten to her. Worse because he didn’t know how to fix it. She was alive and yet somehow it felt like he had just witnessed her die before him. Crawling over to the bed and reaching beneath it, he pulled out a wooden cigar box. Opening it like a treasure, he rested his head against the cool steel frame as he found what he was looking for. Here he kept all his advanced, personal chems. This time he fished out the jar of orange bufftats, popping off the lid and spilling himself a palm-full. This he paired with an injection of jet fuel. If he was going to hit it hard, he may as well enjoy it, he thought to himself. As the chems set in, he forced himself to release the collection of letters in his hand. Once they were laid out in his lap, he could see they were numbered and addressed to him only as John. With a sigh he hooked his finger into the letter labeled ‘one’ and read to himself.

John,

I found him.

Half of the paper was scribbled out, the same three words wrote and crossed out over and over again.

Shaun is not. Shaun is not Shaun. He goes by Father now and he’s in his sixties. My son is lecturing me about wisdom in old age. God i need you here. I can’t make heads or tales of this bullshit. I need a good hit and god do i miss you. It’s been one day and i feel like my skin is crawling off my bones. This won’t make it out to you because I won’t be leaving yet, i’m not sure that’s my choice either.

I love you, wait for me.

She signed her name as a little drawing of a sun. His heart tightened. Shaun? Not a child, but an old man? Questions came buzzing to his lips but he stored them for the other letters. He hungrily pulled apart number two.

John.

It’s a fucking horror show here. They made gorillas. Do you even know what a gorilla is? I don’t imagine many people do anymore. Gorillas, john. Out of my dna. Out of Shaun. Did i mention that yet? They kidnapped my son to make synths out of him. Not Valentine synths. No. they stole my baby to make the kind of synths to replace families and murder others. To save humanity, he says. Father. Shaun. My son. I have never wished I died in 2077 more than I do right now. He knew I was still frozen there. He left me. He left Nate. My son is a monster.

Two had no signature, but it was peppered with spots of dried tears. Hancock shredded the letter, slamming his fist down on number three.

John,

They trust me enough to send me out now. I’ve met with the SRB, the place that routes coursers out. I’ve been assigned a shadow and Father wants me to travel with the synth on missions. To get perspective. I’ve been slowly hacking into the terminals here, bleeding information. Tell the others, well. Don’t tell them anything. This letter will probably never reach you. But then again, if I can get out…  
I love you.  
I think i’ve been forgetting to add that into these papers.

Three closed with another little sun and no tear marks. Hancock took a moment before going for the fourth, taking a deep breath. Maybe he should have stayed sober, he thought briefly, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind he knew he wouldn’t have been able to handle these with a clear head. When he opened four, it was full of her smell. The sweet scent of tarberries and sweat muddied the strange acidic sterile scent of the others. He held it to his nose hollow, breathing her in as if she was still in the room.

Hancock,

That she had reverted to his title made him unsteady.

I’ve been traveling with this courser all week, he calls himself X6-88. If what Father says is true and synths truly have no emotions, then this one has perfected disinterest. I was sent to recover a runaway posing as a pirate, but instead of attacking, I struck a deal. He wouldn’t raid if I let him go. Father told me I could handle it how I pleased. He lied. As soon as I let down my guard X6 reset the poor bastard. However, during this outing I was able to leave a holotape for the Railroad in one of the drops. Hopefully Deacon finds it. If he does, know that I will be extending my absence. I have to get them out. The resistance here is desperate.

J

So that was where the lying bastard had disappeared to when they needed him most. Actually being useful. Such was like him, even if it riled Hancock to a new rage that the son of a bitch couldn’t even let on that Juniper was alive. The Railroad and their goddamn secrecy, he hissed. There was only one letter more. The five was a gentle swoop and beneath the cursive John written on the closed envelope there was a kiss mark in that same sultry red he saw her in earlier.

My Love,

If you’re reading this, hell will be upon us soon. It has been a long time since i went to war, but I still remember the warning signs. I am being dispatched, my son’s filthy courier, to Bunker Hill. If all goes according to plan, after this fight I will be stripped of my transporter and forbidden from ever entering the Institute again. They’re planning a massacre. I’ve let Deacon and Co. know how to proceed, but I want you to stay as far away from this fight as possible. I know asking you is a fool’s wish, but please. You are the only thing I have left here. I can’t have you in the crossfire. I will find you when the dust settles.

Wait for me.

Juniper James.

Her signature was as robust and aggressive as she was. Hancock stared down at the words, taking all five letters in. Three weeks and his lover had really tore up the town. He knew from their own work trapping coursers that her teleporter could be tracked and that her coming here had been a risk. The fifth letter he folded gently and replaced in its envelope, tucking it into his coat breast pocket. If he couldn’t find his lover he would find the little shit that knew where she was. When he pulled himself to his feet he realized the chems were wearing off which meant more time had passed than he thought. Looking out the big bay windows he saw the moon hanging high in the night sky and cursed. First thing tomorrow he would drag Nick by his rusty cogs down to the Railroad and demand answers. That, or he would filet Deacon alive. Maybe both. Both is good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for stopping by, i tried to minimize the in game dialogue to what was necessary, rewording a few to make it shorter or more relevant to Juniper. Let me know if you would prefer more original, non canon dialogue to replace actual game dialogue cause i can do that too.


	10. The One at Bunker Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spoilers
> 
> is a reunion at gun point still a happy one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers para de institute  
> again
> 
> song: Vor I Vaglaskogi - Kaleo (an icelandic indie band)

The fall sun hung heavy in the midday sky. Broken buildings loomed above the remains of Boston, groaning like the skeletons of old soldiers. Wind whistled like a ghost, beckoning the men trudging up the street to come closer. Hancock had his tricorn pulled low over his eyes, a green bandanna tied across his mouth. He carried only a sawed off shotgun and the look of death. Beside him, Nick Valentine’s eyes were glowing an eerie red, reflective of the cigarette that hung from his lips. The pair looked like something out of an old cop drama, long coats blowing against shadowed thighs as they crossed the distance to the Old North Church at the end of the Freedom Trail.

Hancock kicked down the door, no desire to be stealthy. On a regular day, Valentine would be holding him back, trying to talk sense into the ghoul, but today was not a regular day. Nick was just as furious as his companion and curse him for admitting it, but he didn’t care just what he had to do to get the answers he wanted. Not this time. Hancock had opened the letter addressed to Deacon and all it said was “Bunker Hill.” His head lolled to and fro as he slogged through the catacombs to the Railroad hold, ready to set the entire thing on fire if he didn’t find his woman. Nick twisted the combination to unlock the passage and when the wall parted the two were greeted by a youngster in a newsboy hat.

“PAM said you might come. Desdemona is waiting.” Drummerboy relayed. They followed him further into the hollow, a passage Nick knew fairly well. When the party broke across the stairs they walked into a circle of angry stares.

Deacon stood between Des and the Asultron, his arms folded across his chest, his sunglasses on even in the underground. He didn’t crack the casual smile he always wore, instead his lip curled ever so slightly at the sight of Hancock. The ghoul growled in return, a low rumbling that started deep in his chest and ripped away from his lips. Valentine resisted the urges to set his hand on his shoulder, instead finishing his cigarette and flicking it at Deacon’s feet in disgust.

“You better have a good reason for keeping secrets like this, Deacon.” Nick said, the only one calm enough to speak. Deacon shrugged, not breaking formation.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Nick.” His nonchalant tone was too forced to be natural.

Hancock surged forward, slamming his fist down on the map that laid across the circular wartable. “I swear to every god you bastards have ever believed in, if you don’t start talking I’m going to start filling you with lead.” He threw the crumpled letter in Deacon’s face, the paper bouncing off the sunglasses and falling to the floor. The cock of a shotgun cracked the silence in the room.

Valentine turned to find himself facing the barrel of said shotgun, held at the ready by Glory herself. “Not before I start first,” she snapped.

It was Nick who moved, pressing his shredded forehead into the cold double barrel. He had stopped breathing, the quiet mechanical whirring of his body stilling as his yellow eyes burrowed into his fellow synth.

“You blow this bucket of bolts, sweetheart, and you lose your advantage.” His metal fingers came up, tracing the shaft of the weapon until his fingers curled around hers over the trigger, pressing in ever so slightly. “I’ve finished everything I live for, how about you?”

Desdemona spoke, right as Hancock twitched in anticipation. “I’m aware Agent Whisper is fond of you, but this is no business of yours. Spread your violence elsewhere.”

Deacon’s lips parted. Hancock straightened. Faster than the eye could follow, the ghoul had him on the ground, straddling his stomach holding a knife to his throat.

“I suppose now would be the perfect time to find out if you’re even human, you fucking lying bastard.” Hancock hissed.

“Hey now, no hard feelings,” Deacon managed, a smile spreading on his face.

“Wrong. Very, very hard feelings.” Hancock increased the pressure, the blade digging into the soft flesh of the other man’s neck.

“Hancock, buddy--” Deacon was cut short by Hancock’s swift movements. He tossed the knife aside, lodging it in a mattress in the wayside. His slim fingers curled around Deacon’s throat, blood bubbling over his knuckles as he squeezed.

“Buddy,” Hancock’s voice was sultry, dronwing out the shouting and sounds of targeting. “Do you really want to know just how close to feral I’ve been lately? Because I would be delighted to share.” The ghoul leaned in close, baring his teeth. Deacon’s face was already shading a new red.

“He can’t tell you anything because he doesn’t know.” Glory had relented her weapon ad crossed the room, quieting everyone. The hand she placed on Hancock’s shoulder was gentle and reminiscent of his own white-haired wildcard. His body stiffened, eyes as black as the abyss fixing on her.

“Listen,” She began. “Your girl is running the biggest operation this waste has ever seen. Her own life is hanging by sealed lips, which is probably why you were the last to find out.” Glory paused, letting Hancock finish his snarl. “Don’t put her in danger because you got impatient. She’s smart. She’s got a lot more riding on her than just a firefight.”

Hancock rose, exhaled until his chest concaved, then offered his hand to Deacon to pull him up. Deacon kept the smile, only this time it touched his eyes. He had seen Macready, he knew what jealousy brought out in the Mayor of Goodneighbor. Besides, intelligence was his forte. Glory had bluffed, Deacon did know exactly what Juniper was doing but he was under strict orders from the Survivor herself not to exchange words with the ghoul and he had no intention of getting on her bad side.

“Start talking.” Hancock demanded. Glory rolled her eyes, but relayed the plans that had been developed thus far. Then she did something that surprised them all.

“Shadow me, I’ll take you to your girl. It goes down tonight.” A hush fell over the room. Desdemona scowled, but said nothing in opposition.

Glory led Hancock through the back exit, splitting from the Railroad agents and leaving Valentine behind. The ghoul was shaking subtly, trying to keep a lid on all his emotions. They walked in silence through the flooded underground and up the stairs that breached the Commonwealth. The synth turned on her heel, heading NorthWest towards Bunker Hill. The sun would be setting by the time they reached the shanty town full of caravans and apparently runaway robots. The journey drug on much like the day, the sun too hot, much like the tempers of the travelers. It was Glory who broke the silence finally, as she hoisted herself over the remains of an old bus.

“You ought to stop act like loving her makes you a special snowflake.” Glory shoved her hand down to assist Hancock in his climb. At her remark he pushed her hand back and pulled himself up on his own.

“Oh, because you’re the resident professional on it, are you?” His dark eyes narrowed at her.

“Listen Shitcock,” Glory jumped down, landing as easy as a feline. “We all love her, no more and no less than you do.”

“Sure you do.” Hancock’s hat fell crooked on his head when he landed hard. “That’s why you’re sending her around to do your dirty work, putting her in danger.”

Glory shook her head in disgust. “What makes you think anyone else had a say in her choices? If you know her so well then you know she’s unstoppable when she sets her mind to it.”

Hancock took this information in unhappily. While throwing accusations back and forth was lifting his spirits, something was nagging him about the way Glory spoke. It was the same way Nick had spoke about Juniper. Even random strangers regarded her with the same distanced awe. Like they had flown too close to the sun and ended up burned, but loved it. Juniper had came into his life like a shooting star, a blinding light that rewrote everything he knew about life and love and happiness. Was that how she treated everyone? Who was he kidding. There were settlements teeming at the edges with people ready to throw down everything for her. She woke up from a two hundred some-odd year nap and almost instantly revived the dying Minute Men. She had the Brotherhood of Steel wrapped around her pinky, Maxson begging for her in his own arrogant way time after time. The Railroad clung to her every word, completely ignoring her involvement with their sworn enemies. Even the Institute, if her letters were any proof, had taken her in with open arms. Jun just had a way with people, everyone loved her. Was that love something he could compete with? He tended to believe so, jealousy aside. But here he sat again, stuck doubting himself and his worth. After all, it seemed Jun didn’t even think she could trust him with this mission.

Glory had noted his silence and stopped, watching him pick his way over the ruins. “You know, I’m not,” she fought with the words, kindness not coming as easy as sarcasm. “She chose you. That’s important.”

“Is it?” He heard the voice but it didn’t sound like his own.

“Do you know who she was with before you?” Glory kept her voice low, speaking slowly.

“Seems like I get a new name every day.” Hancock shoved his hands into his pockets. “But it’s the present that matters and I’m no saint to be throwing stones.”

Glory regarded him, his face softened by his doubts. “She left me.”

“What?” Hancock’s brow pulled together.

“Whisper and I were sleeping together, pretty regularly, before she told me that she couldn’t keep lying to me.” Glory folded her arms across her chest and looked towards the sunset. “Said she thought she might actually be in love and that it wouldn’t be right to keep me on the line.”

The ghoul’s mouth worked to form his thoughts. “She left you, for me?” He had to confirm it.

“Bingo.”

“How do you stand it?” he took a step toward her and she reflexively stepped away.

“I understand that you can’t trap a wild thing.”

The white-haired heavy set off, not bothering to delve further into feelings she had long since rid herself of. There was a job to do and they were coming upon Bunker Hill. The spiked monument rose above them, piercing the darkening sky. Glory snaked through the gates, leading the ghoul up the tower to her sniper’s perch. Taking a deep breath, she put a hand on Hancock’s shoulder before turning back down the stairs.

“It’s going to be a fire-fight. You can follow her out in the end, if you can find her. Good luck.”

 

\-------

 

Mortar and blood rained from the air like morbid confetti. Somehow, the Brotherhood had caught wind of the Institute’s presence in Bunker Hill and had made an unwelcome appearance. Vertibirds cut through the air, power armor dropping from them and making the ground shake. Bright flashes of light punctuated by Institute synths exploded around the monument. Caravaners drew on the intruders and Railroad heavies emerged from every corner of the compound. Lazer fire burned through limbs and bullets removed armor piece by piece. From his perch above the major battle, Hancock could see them fight and die like ants. He did his best to pick off the stark white Institute synths with the rifle Glory had left in the window but it was slow work, the things had come ready. The Brotherhood was an easier target, the flesh footsoldiers falling one after another when his shot tore through their skull. The Institute was the enemy, but if a few of those cocky bigots fells in the crossfire, who would miss them? Hancock reasoned no one, so he continued to fell them, his eyes peeled for his true target, Juniper James.

Juniper had met the courser in the alley and was relaying orders when the Brotherhood began raining down on them. A curse crossed her lips as the courser yelled about plans changing. She had not told them so how had they known? She stored the question for later, pulling her coat closer and running into the firefight. Something solid bounced off her chestplate and she recognized that she had been shot, the solid coat Glory had lent her protecting her from real damage. Pissed, she lunged into battle. Not a soul on this field was her declared enemy but if they wanted to shoot her then damn them all. Her goal were the innocents on the inside and if she had to rip out the throats of every unlucky bastard who showed this day than she would. Firing up her ripper, she lunged into a swarm of synths and began tearing them limb from limb. When the circle went down she continued forward, breaking into the locked gates of Bunker Hill.

A heavy fell at her feet as she narrowly dodged a shot from a Brotherhood Paladin. Showing her teeth in a snarl, Jun caught the bastard by his helmet and hooked a grenade down the hollow of his power armor. She lept from him just as it exploded, sending him apart inside out. War was her talent, her specialty. As serious as this mission was, it was the most fun she had had in weeks. Between Desdemona and Father, all the stealth was driving her mad. Shoot first, question later was more Jun’s style. The vaultie continued her rampage towards the hatch below Bunker Hill where the escapees were waiting. As she dropped down the ladder, the courser caught up with her, following her down. Somehow, Brotherhood soldiers had found a way down the tunnels and were facing off. Juniper launched herself over the stairs into the middle of it, letting a warcry rip from her throat. Disarming the power armor as she had the previous one, she pushed his suit towards the cluster of Institute synths as it blew, taking two birds with one bomb. Behind one of the turrets, she caught a glimpse of Glory’s white head and tossed her fellow warrior a thumbs up.

Glory motioned towards the ceiling, trying to communicate through the carnage. Juniper followed the direction of her motions and darted up the stairs to the clear the way for the escapees. The courser was close on her heels, still unaware of her betrayal as he fired down into Railroad agents and she did not. Once inside the holding room, she closed and locked the door. The courser nodded to her, the synths behind her shaking with fear.

“Initiate the recall and I will return them.” The courser commanded.

Juniper pulled the bandanna from her face and stretched her arms out, a wicked grin pulling her mouth open. The scars running down her face looked threatening in the shadows of the room, the gunfire outside vibrating the room in such a way that her breathing sounded like it’s own ticking bomb. She flipped off her ripper, hooking it on her back and stepping towards the courser menacingly. He didn’t register it until it was too late, her 10 mm nestled against the left side of his jaw. A shot from this range would remove it entirely. The synth tensed, hand dropping to his lazer rifle which he had ignorantly put away when she sheathed her weapon.

“I do apologize for this, but I just can’t let the Institute continue to play god.” Jun said, her hand covering the courser’s over his weapon. Exhaling slowly, she pressed a kiss to his temple before raising her gun the few inches it took to blow the synth’s artificial brains out.

Behind her a series of gasps and retches escaped the Railroad refugees. Juniper turned, pulling her bandanna back so as not to frighten them further. She holstered her gun and raised her hands in surrender before the unarmed gathered before her.

“You’re free,” She said, “Someone will be in shortly to give the all clear and take you to safety.”

The shouting and gunshots outside the door were dying down. It was time to exit and see who the winning side was. If Jun had played her part properly, the Railroad heavies would be the only ones left standing. The escapees showered her with thanks and she slipped out the door, ready for anything. Glory was waiting on the other side, Doc Carrington close behind. They nodded an unspoken thanks and went in after the escapees. Bodies were scattered in the tunnel; synth, Brotherhood, and Railroad. The fight had been vicious, much due to the violence Jun doled out against her enemies. Standing in the middle of the aftermath, she felt no regret. Her somber expression was more telling than any words she could muster to explain herself.

Outside, the fight had ended. The fallen bodies scattered the once bustling square, both mechanical and organic. Vertibirds whisked soldiers away, leaving Bunker Hill eerily quiet. Juniper emerged from the hatch, the shuffling of her boots against the ground echoing off the tin walls. Hancock was across the courtyard checking vitals on a few of the fallen heavies, not a single one was still living. When he heard footsteps his head swiveled, tensing on the shotgun that hung limp in his hand. Juniper heard the rustle of his movement and drew her 10mm, clearing the area. Both made their way around the monument, sidestepping with an eye on the sights of their weapon. Juniper’s breath hitched when the ghoul’s face lined up with the barrel of her gun. Hancock sighed, dropping his weapon first and taking a step towards her.

Jun was frozen,, she hadn’t expected him here. “John?”

“It’s me, Sunshine. It’s ok.” When she didn’t disengage, he held up his hands in surrender, one rising to tilt his tricorn back. Night had fallen through the attack and shaded him elegantly.

“Why?” she demanded, loosening finally. “Goddamnit, John. I didn’t want you here.”

His heart clenched at her words, his hands folded across his chest defensively. “You don’t get to sit me on the bench, Jun. I love you.”

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t have come. What if something happened to you?” she holstered her gun and mirrored his stance, folding her arms.

“I did just fine before you came into my life. I’m doing just fine now.” Barely, he thought. With her leaving him behind constantly.

Instead of arguing further, Juniper let out an exasperated sigh and went to him, throwing her arms around his neck. His arms found her easily, wrapping around her waist and pulling her tight. This was where he needed her, right here against his chest. So close he could taste the breath rolling off her lips. He pulled back from her just long enough to yank down the damned bandanna and plant a desperate kiss on her lips. Jun returned it, hot mouth opening to let him in. Her hands tangled in the collar of his red coat as if she was hanging on for dear life. She had missed him so much, been so afraid of how to tell him the truth. It was cowardice that caused her to leave him those letters, words she wrote to pass the time, not to give to him. Not truly. But it mattered not anymore, not now that they were tangled in each other.

Hancock drove her back against the wall of the monument, hands roaming her body fiercely searching for any damage since he saw her last. Content that she was unharmed, he dropped his hands to her ass, tugging her into him as he pushed his hips into hers. Jun let out a soft moan against his lips, her own hands falling from his neck to roam his chest. She found a single bullet wound beneath his collarbone which she quickly tilted her chin to place a kiss upon. Black eyes burrowed into her own fog colored gaze, reaching into her soul and pulling her back into herself after all this time. The answers she found at the Institute had treated her brain like a blender and she had felt hollow, dead inside faced with the truth. She clutched her lover like he would keep her above water in a storm. He was her only safe harbor in the chaos that spun around her.

“Don’t you ever leave me again,” Hancock’s voice was hot silk against her neck, his teeth grazing over her skin. Tears threatened to escape her eyes at the promise she could not keep.

“John,” She could only say his name, emotions crashing down on her at his touch.

How close had she come to the edge today? Playing each of her allies against each other for her own revenge. She kissed him once more, unloading all her love on his lips. There was still business she had to finish and he would not be pleased to follow her into the mouth of it. His woman was hurting, he could smell the sadness rolling off of her in waves. He clung to her, giving her his warmth, his touch, his adoration and yet it was not enough. When he finally came up for air, his hands cradled her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

“Just point me in the direction of the bastard to kill, I’ll rip his throat out.”

“It’s not that simple,” Juniper’s voice was only a whisper.

“Why not?” Hancock demanded, his fingers curling into a fist which he then struck against the wall. “Why can it not be that simple?”

Juniper’s shoulders slumped and she couldn’t make herself meet his black eyes. “Because it’s Shaun. Because all of this is Shaun.”

“So you’ve said.” Hancock recalled the letters and how they had shocked him to his core. “But I’m going to need more than that, doll.”

The night wind picked up, blowing Jun’s hair free of its tie and around her face. She shivered, not from the cold but from what the future held. For her, for her lover, for her son; the entire Commonwealth was relying on her decisions, whether they knew it or not. It weighed her down, kept her pinned to the wall at her back, kept her eyes on her feet. There were no words to explain just how she had wrapped herself so tightly into the thread of destiny before her. The answers stuck to her tongue like molasses, making her incapable to telling Hancock just how bad it really was. But damn her if she wasn’t going to try.

“Shaun is a monster. In short, the Institute raised him, gave him power, and everything you see before you? Well, it’s all his doing.” Jun took a deep breath to steady herself, letting one of her hands roam up his arm. “I’ve become his courier of sorts, zapping back and forth to do his bidding. I wanted to give him a chance, more time, but it just gets worse.” Her head thumped against his shoulders.

Hancock wrapped her in his arms again, hugging her like she would disappear at any moment. “So what’s next?”

“I go back to him.”

“Not without me you don’t,” Hancock growled, nipping at her jugular in a show of both love and assertion. Juniper’s breathless sigh was his answer because it was not a denial. He took her hand firmly, pulling her straight and reassuring her. “Lead the way Sunshine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks as always, your comments are a delight!
> 
> let me know if chapters should be longer. i'm just doing four pages each because i don't want a novel per update.


	11. The One With Jun's Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you play with death, remember that he has a name. Today, that name is Juniper James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why i'm still telling you, but spoilers. 
> 
> song for tonight is Alive by Ben Phipps and Way Down We Go by Kaleo

The events at Bunker Hill rippled through the wasteland overnight. Mechanical parts littered the ground beside body parts, a vision of real humanity. The faces of the dead were turned to the sky, lifeless eyes of man and synth looking to the heavens for an answer, a reason this mass death took place. In the quiet of the sunrise it was hard to justify the differences that set them at each other in violence. These bodies had been people with thoughts and feelings, maybe not families or blood but what matter is that? What makes someone human? Is it that they breathe or is it that they feel? If an android can exhibit the importance of good and evil, of striving to make the world better for the next guy, of helping a man up after he falls down, then he shows more humanity than the flesh and bone that would cast out their own child for another drink. Humanity lies within the little things, manners maketh the man. These were the thoughts Juniper struggled with as she left what was now the graveyard of Bunker Hill.

Jun’s grey eyes swept over the fallen, crouching occasionally to close the haunting dead eyes of others. Hancock followed her close behind, keeping his thoughts to himself as none of them were kind and he wasn’t entirely sure who was the bad guy in this mess, who Jun wanted to be the bad guy. There were skeletons of Brotherhood armor collapsed upon the corpses of Brotherhood footsoldiers, pale white synths covered in the blood of the Railroad agents who fought for their freedom. Somehow, this all led back to the Institute and the Institute led back to Shaun. This was not something he could process with sharp wit and a fast quip, this was delicate and serious. This was everything.

When the pair cleared the wreckage of Bunker Hill, Juniper turned to Hancock and kissed him quick. “Meet me at RR HQ, I promise this time.” And then she blinked out in a flash of light.

Hancock growled, letting out every curse he knew in every language. She had evaded him again. This was becoming a bad habit and he was not about to be happy about it, even if he had been expecting it since he slipped into sleep curled around her last night. He would handcuff them together the next chance he got, to make sure she didn’t leave him in the dust again. That teleporter made her too damn mobile. After this kind of clusterfuck, all the factions were bound to be after her hide, either for answers or retribution. However, it was altogether possible that the entirety of witnesses were already dead and dead men tell no tales. Hancock cursed, he had been hanging around those robot pirates far too long. Damn Juniper, her weird love for nautical nonsense was not something he missed. With his fists shoved into his pockets, the ghoul mayor made his way across the river to Railroad HQ.

Juniper popped herself to the CIT building where she found Shaun waiting. He looked even older in the natural sunlight, his greyed hair wisping in the wind. Her heart broke anew knowing that she would never have his youth back. Even this future that he was building, Father of the Institute, she wanted none of it. The guilt consumed her because Jun couldn’t help but feel like she had failed him. Though there was not a thing in the world that would be able to change the events that already happened, she cursed herself over and over. The worst part of it, the thing that had been plaguing her dreams since she reached the Institute all those weeks ago, was that she felt relieved. Relief that she would not have to raise this child that was never planned for, relief that someone had did it for her, relief that he wasn’t screwed up because of her. They were terrible thoughts, thoughts that made her unworthy of ever even uttering the word son, and yet she did. It oozed from her like an open wound.

“Son.”

“You know, I’ve never set foot outside the Institute” Shaun kept his eyes on the horizon. “Not once, since the day they brought me here. But now, this confirms what I’ve always known. There is no future here. Standing here, I’m reminded how fortunate I am that I was spared a life in this wasteland. I know you believe I was kidnapped, but in truth, I was rescued. Both of us, really.”

“They killed Nate. They left me frozen. How can you stand here and make excuses for them?” Jun folded her arms across her chest, looking over the side of the building. How easy it would be to throw herself over, to take Father with her.

“You were the contingency. If something went wrong, they would always have you alive and safe in the vault. A DNA match, a blood relative. When I released you, I had no idea you would make it this far. To infiltrate the Institute. Extraordinary.”

“I’m so pleased I exceed your expectations. Why release me if you didn’t even think I would survive? A cruel joke?” Her blood was boiling. All the lives she had taken, the faces she stepped over on her way out of the battlefield, they all dance in front of her eyes. A plan B. Her hands were shaking.

“Well, that is hard to explain.” Father shrugged, his cold demeanor dropping into Shaun for a brief moment before dissolving. “It was no longer necessary to keep you there. I supposed I wanted to see what would happen. An experiment: would the Commonwealth corrupt you as it has everything else? Would you survive? And perhaps most curious to me, would you attempt to find me after all this time. Now I have my answers.”

Juniper’s fists clenched. This man was of her womb. He was the last living remnant of Nathaniel James. She should feel something other than white hot rage when she looked at him. Even as she said the words, she knew they had no meaning. “Shaun, I still love you.”

“I see. It’s remarkable. But there is more to speak of. What became of Bunker Hill?”

“Death.”

“Care to expand?” He fixed his cold blue eyes on her.

“A hundred or more, all dead. Most by my hand. Your synths never made it out, the Brotherhood found them first.” It was an easy lie.

“I see. I apologize for putting you at such a risk. This can still be salvaged. You have done well, it’s time for you to come inside. The directorate is meeting and you should be there.”

+

The directorate made no secret of their distaste. Father announced he would die of cancer and named Juniper acting head of the Institute. She nearly threw up on the spot. Only one woman, old and blonde, congratulated her. When she stumbled out of the room, her head was spinning. The floor came up to meet her and darkness claimed its place in her mind.

Juniper was facing a collection of her comrades. Railroad agents she took arms with, Minutemen who looked to her for guidance, ghouls who smiled when she walked by, synth eyes watched her with gratitude, even a pair of super mutants stood among the crowd before her. This was her family, regardless of what Shaun had become, these were the people she mothered. The Commonwealth had become her child. Young Piper, who wound herself in mess after mess yet somehow always came out on top. Curie’s careless desire to learn about everything with childlike wonder. Strong was in a league of his own when it came to supervision. Cait and RJ would drive themselves into an early grave if someone didn’t keep an eye on them. Poor Codsworth was on the brink of insanity on his own. Deacon and Danse as different as they were, were two sides of the same coin and needed to be culled before they killed themselves over a cause. Preston wouldn’t make it on his own. Hope had proven not enough to keep him going and he was not a life to be left on chance. Nick Valentine was barely sticking together, pretty soon Ellie would be tieing him up with duct tape.

John Hancock. She found his face easily in the gathering. Her ghoul shared a secret smile, black eyes piercing her thoughts. He would kill himself if he wasn’t careful, if she wasn’t there to set him straight. He was as responsible for keeping her alive as she was him, however. If he hadn’t renewed her sense of justice that day in the Goodneighbor square with his flippant speech about acceptance, she may never have chosen the path she did. The pain that tore through her lungs, her heart expanding, that was love. A love that she hadn’t felt with Nate, no matter how good he was they were just so very different. This, with John, felt like a piece of her soul had returned to her. Maybe it was fate that froze her for two hundred sixty years just to meet her match. And oh did he match her, in every aspect they collided and melded together in the most organic way. His temper met hers as naturally as his violence, their aggression outweighed only by their passions. A man that would lay down his life for the voiceless and a woman who would slit the throat of any one who dared say he was wrong for it. John Hancock was her home.

A wave passed over the crowd, smoke erupting just as it had the day the atom bombs dropped. A scream wrenched itself from Juniper’s chest as she failed to move her feet. The bomb overtook them, wiping away every person she cared for like they were no more than dust bunnies. She struggled to get free but when she looked down, she was clad in Institute white, a big red button glued to her palm. Her thumb was jammed into the detonator. She had caused the explosion. She had killed them. It was the Institute’s grand plan. She could hear Shaun, no, he was not Shaun to her anymore. Father was whispering in her ear, vile things ghosting from his lips.

“They are abomination. They are not human. This is the future. We must protect the future of humanity. You must destroy them. Get rid of the leftovers.” The Father ghost pointed to a clump of flesh, a red pile in the debris.

Released from invisible bonds, Jun lept from the pedestal and fell to her knees in front of her lover. His eyes were no longer black but the softest blue she had ever seen. Golden locks of hair fell from beneath his tricorn. Beneath her worried hands he became human again, his voice a clear velvet that sent shivers up her spine in the worst way.

“This is what you chose. Why would you do this to me? Why would you choose them?” Hancock’s human face turned to dust under her fingers and blew away. Valentine called to her from just a foot away.

The synth looked brand new, dark brows furrowed in pain as the holes in his face closed on their own with perfect skin. “This isn’t right, doll. This isn’t who I am.” Nick faded as fast as she had saw him.

In the distance, Strong grappled with another mutant that Jun finally recognized as Virgil. Both shrunk to small, immaculate human forms. “Even I know this is wrong.” Virgil said.

“This not kindness, human.” Strong’s voice caught on the air of his ashes.

What had she done? How could she kill them all? It was an accident, it was only for answers. The Institute did not own her and she would not lead them, lead everyone she loved to this fate. This was not the kind of person she was. Father crossed the destruction and stopped in front of her, an even smile on his face. As he stood he morphed, his face and body becoming a mirror of her own. Then he changed again, erasing any evidence of the destruction of the wasteland, healing her scars and her frostbite. Redheaded, clean and military cut Juniper James looked into her own fogged eyes. The mirror screamed high and vicious before plunging her pristine fingers into Jun’s heart.

“Shh,” Father’s face was hovering over her. Juniper lashed out, grabbing him by the throat and flipping him into a death vice in her lap. He remained still and spoke as if speaking to a wild animal. “You blacked out, you’re safe. It’s Shaun,” the monster spoke her son’s name and she squeezed tighter. “Mother, please release me.”

He wasn’t even scared. At least a nightmare of Father would be scared for his life, Jun decided, so she released him. The elder adjusted himself and crossed the room to sit in a single chair.

“I apologize if I startled you, you were thrashing in your sleep.” He regarded her like a specimen.

“Nightmares,” Jun offered. “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t.

“Pay it no mind. I understand the world above is…” He could not finish when he met her eyes.

Silence settled on them

 

“I have a request of you.” Father stated. “The Railroad has become an obstacle we can no longer ignore. We must wipe them out entirely to secure the future of the Institute. I have a list of active operatives that must be eliminated immediately.”

Jun sat up, her brows furrowed together. So now came the order to kill her friends. Her family. She knew it would happen eventually. How she handled this conversation would determine not only the Institute’s future, but her own. She was still working the double agent angle for Desdemona, trying to smuggle out as many synths as she could while inside the enemy’s lair. This would change things. Father continued as calloused as ever.

“I know you’ve spent plenty of time with these vagrants, but I have confidence that as the new leader of the Institute you will act with our best in mind. I’ll leave you to gather your things. Please, take all the time you need to adjust to your mission. But do so quickly.”

Asshole, she thought as she palmed her burning eyes. The longer she was out of that damn cryo cage the worse her vision became. The frostbite that had ruined her face after Kellogg’s attack had all but ruined her eyesight. Once green eyes were now pale grey and bloodshot, set in sockets of bruises. Seeing herself as she once was, whole and healthy in her dream, did not comfort her. Sure, the scars that tore over her face from shatter glass and manufactured ice made her self conscious, but time had proven she was no monster. The Institute would not have the last laugh, she wouldn’t sacrifice her humanity for her son. Family did not require blood and Juniper’s only concern since she woke up was protecting her family.

Jun prodded some buttons on her pip-boy and teleported herself to Homeplate. Hancock would be waiting for her at Railroad HQ if he listened, and he listened when he was angry, so she planned to gear up and head right over. There was no chance she would zap right into the Railroad, not if the Institute could track her, which they probably already were. Any little thing, right? Climbing the stairs to her bedroom loft, she shrugged out of bloodied clothes, tossing them in a pile of the floor. Not bothering to wash her skin before redressing, she pulled on jeans and a ratty white t-shirt, over which she buttoned up her dirty white blouse. Over that went a steel chestplate, belted into place. With the body armor secured, she tied the blue scarf around her collar and shrugged into the blue trench coat. A radio slung over her shoulder, leather gloves fit snug on her hands as she laced up her army boots. Today she would go to war not just as Juniper James, but as the Minuteman General, to protect the people. All of them, pristine flesh or not.

Partymaker slung over her shoulder, a knapsack full of missiles beside it ready to tear into anything in her way. Her shotgun stayed behind this time, this was a time for guns of passion. Beside Partymaker, Jun strapped down her ripper with a grim smile. Up close and personal was as passionate as it got. Satisfied with her stock, Jun set out for HQ without a word to anyone else in Diamond City, not even Nat.

A few hours later, Juniper ducked into the catacombs of the Old North Church and made her presence known. Everyone was standing tersely around the maps in the center of the room, whispering plans. Off to the side, looking about as comfortable as a sinner at mass, stood Hancock smoking a cigarette. He was toying with something on Tom’s desk and listening, but not making eye contact with anyone. When footsteps sounded at the stairs he glanced up.

“About goddamn time.” he growled, crossing the room to meet her. Though he wouldn’t admit it in front of others, he had been sick to his stomach with worry when she hadn’t returned the first night. It had been three days since he saw her last, not the longest they had been apart but somehow he felt the tension more than ever this time, and he even had warning first. Tipping his hat back, he looked her over, regarding that she had no new scars or injuries.

“Boy do I have news for you,” Juniper hissed, shaking her head. “C’mon, I’ll tell everyone all at once. It’s not something I want to repeat.”

Juniper took her place in front of the gathered Railroad agents. Hancock had managed to snag Nick, Preston, and Macready while he had waited for Jun’s return and the outsiders huddled together near Deacon who looked like he was enjoying the attention too much. Desdemona nodded as Juniper took center. She looked commanding and regal in her Minutemen regalia and despite himself, Preston let out a small gasp. Macready elbowed the other young man and smiled at him. Nick crossed his arms over his chest and made room for Hancock to squeeze in beside him. The scars rolling down the left of Juniper’s face cast large shadows over her cheeks making her look savage. The bruising around her eyes looked darker and her cheeks were gaunt, though it was not for lack of food. The hollow feeling in her chest was beginning to take shape in her features and she couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it. Let it come, she thought as she prepared herself in front of her peers. They will see how much this weighs on me and if they doubt, then it can’t be helped.

“Friends, comrades.” She surveyed those present, resting her eyes on her lover. “I come bearing grave news. For all of us.” She pulled her gloves from her hands and sighed deeply. “I have been back and forth from the Institute, infiltrating them, this you know. However, I’ve withheld the whole truth from you. While most of you think the Institute has judged me an ally based on my actions, this is not the case. The leader of the enemy, the man called Father, he is my son. While I had hoped to find kindness in his heart when I could not find his childhood, I have found only the brainwashing of the Institute.” She paused to breathe, letting this settle in.

Hancock’s lips were set into an unreadable line, this was information he knew so it couldn't be the real news. This time, it was Macready who gasped and Preston who gave the elbow. A whisper rattled through the agents gathered until Deacon silenced them with a glare over his sunglasses. At that moment it came to Juniper’s attention that Glory was not in attendance. She looked to Des for answers but only received a nod to continue.

“Shaun,” Jun coughed, not Shaun. “Father had hoped I shared his vision for preserving humanity, the humanity that existed before the bombs. I’ve learned much from him, including the reason they stole my child in the first place. He was the basis for all synth creation. His flesh, mine, is what holds in your bones. You are all of my DNA. I was alive as a failsafe, released because i was no longer necessary.” Another breath, another pause. More tittered whispers of shock. Deacon’s mouth had fallen open. She knew it must resonate with him on a personal level.

Valentine made eye contact with her. This was something he also had personal interest in, but for different reasons than Jun suspected. The news made him furious. It made his bolts boil. It made him sad. So much had ridden on Juniper finding her son and he feared that without a goal to drive her forward, with this kind of news, she could easily lose her way. He knew from experience how hard it can be when the world you know crumbles beneath your feet. She went on after a small smile for the detective.

“When I returned to the Institute to report on Bunker Hill, Father took me before the Council for an announcement. Their leader is dying of cancer, such a mundane, pre-war ailment.” The ladder of her statement had been more of a personal comment, but she let it out anyway. “And to carry on his legacy, his Institute, he has appointed me as their new figurehead.”

“What?” Deacon, never speechless, spat out. “And you accepted?” He sounded on the verge of accusation.

“Sure. I accepted. And then I blacked out for an entire day.” She scowled at him, the gall. “And then when I woke up he demanded I wipe out the Railroad entirely. So i went home and stocked up because honey, we are taking the fight to them this time.”

“I mean, did you want something different?” Hancock shot at Deacon, his black eyes slit in distaste.

“No, course not.” Deacon recovered.

“So, Des, what’s the plan?” Juniper asked, tilting to give the Railroad head the room. No sooner had Desdemona stepped forward than and explosion blew out the south wall. Someone was attacking them.

“Institute?” Valentine shouted, arming himself and pulling Preston with him to cover the east wall.

“No!” Tom shouted, buzzers going off at his station as his jumped behind his desk. “Brotherhood!”  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Macready was repeating as he and the ghoul mayor took point at the stairs, mowing down the footsoldiers who were breaching the hole from the rear entrance.

“Whisper!” Desdemona shouted, diving to PAM as a Power Armor busted in. “Glory is out there on her own in the catacombs!”

Juniper cursed, her heart rate climbing. Not Glory, don’t let them get Glory, she thought. She loved the synth, in her own passionless way, she loved her and still regretted how messy they had parted. If she let her die before she could apologize, no. she wouldn’t think of it. Juniper cleared the steps in two leaps and brushed past Hancock who rose to follow her out the door behind them. There were three dead agents and two fallen power armor in the entryway ahead. Jun fired off a few more shots into the corpses, her emotions flaring as she caught sight of the white haired woman in heavy armor slumped in the corner.

“Hey there pretty,” Glory rasped out. She was covered in blood, most of it her own. “None of them got past me.” Jun dropped to her knees in front of the synth, struggling through her pockets for a stimpack, oh why didn’t she have a stimpack today. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened here. Promise me you’ll free them, all of them.”

“No, no, no. Don’t start saying things like it’s over, you idiot.” Tears had already started pouring out of Juniper’s foggy eyes. She gave up looking for a stimpack and wrapped her arms around the other woman, pulling her into her chest.

“Don’t think you get to leave us just yet,” Hancock said softly, coming to his knees.

Glory’s cough racked through her, blood spraying from her mouth. Juniper had began to rock her, murmuring ‘I-love-yous’ into her hair. Hancock instantly felt guilty for any jealousy he had ever held towards the synth. He turned his head, giving the two space.

“Promise me,” Glory whispered.

“I promise,” Jun kissed her forehead. “And I’ll kill every last one of those goddamn Brotherhood soldiers on my way.”

“I know,” Glory said weakly, she was taking her last breath. “Isn’t there...Isn’t there a light?” Her body went limp in Juniper’s arms. The sole survivor screamed, the sound shook the bricks around them, a wounded animal ready for blood. A mother without her child, a predator backed into a corner.

Death was coming and it’s face was Juniper James.

She laid Glory’s body down gently, pulling Partymaker from his straps on her back. She could hear the heavy steps of power armor in the halls ahead. They would not take another of her family. Never again. Hancock cocked his own shotgun and followed her out without a word. Now was not time for mourning, now was time for revenge and revenge he was good at.

Juniper stepped into the hall, her eyes locking on a Brotherhood paladin rounding the corner. She fired a missile directly into his chest and watched him explode, burning inside his own armor. She would make them all a coffin in their shells. Hancock covered her silently. Pushing forward, Juniper felled each paladin that stepped in front of her, a total of six underground alone. When she made it to the surface of the church, the other agents were suppressing fire from the rafters. Jun loaded another missile and fired into soldiers wearing no more than scavenging gear. Soot, blood, and body parts rained down around them. Another missile into the two power armor taking cover near the altar and then there was only knights. Dropping the missilelauncher, Juniper let out another battlecry, a sound like thunder in an empty room, and freed her ripper.

She launched herself into the soldiers, taking her time with her rage. First an arm, then the next, then a leg. No escape. On to the next, the same system. When the soldiers finally grasped their mortality, a few turned to run, but Juniper vaulted over the broken pews, grabbing a handful of hair as Hancock filled another with buckshot. She held her prey’s neck vulnerable, pushing her chainsaw into his plush skin and she screamed as his blood covered her face.

“For Glory!”

“For Glory!” Replied the agents that had gathered behind her, fear in their eyes as she turned to face them. Desdemona tried to get a handle on the situation, grouping everyone together, but Juniper was still wild eyed with bloodlust.

“How did they get the drop on us?” She shouted.

“There’s been a lot of traffic through HQ preparing for this op, someone must have slipped up.” Deacon offered, his voice controlled. “This is a nightmare. We need to listen to Des.” He reached a hand out to the survivor but hesitated and she took the moment to turn away.

Hancock slid his arm around Juniper’s waist, putting her into him and forcing her to lean on him for support. “It’s not over, but these are allies. Revenge needs allies, sunshine,” he whispered to her.

“The Brotherhood underestimated us,” Desdemona began, looking across the faces of those gathered. Railroad and other, all comrades against the genocide of those labeled ‘other.’ “They won’t do it again. They’ll be back in force so we must act while we can, do the unexpected. We eliminate the Brotherhood now and the key to that is their flying fortress. Tom? It’s time to activate Red Glare.”

“But, we’d need a vertibird! Where will we get a vertibird!” Tom’s glasses shook on his head as he waved his arms.

“I’ll provide.” Jun said, voice like danger. “They keep one at the police station.”

“Good. Tom, you’re going with to fly the damn thing. This one’s for Glory.”

Tom was still complaining as Juniper turned on her heel, leaving the comfort of her ghoul’s arms and the disheveled cover of the church. This one was for Glory alright. Every last one of them would pay penance for her blood. Jun didn’t break her promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for hanging out! be diving into more fictional worlds because reality is awful and i can't deal right now. 
> 
> shoutout to jenny_hancock for always commenting, u the real mvp and i love u


	12. The One With an Assault on Titans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an eye for an eye will make the whole world blind. blood for blood will turn the streets all red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs for this one include:  
> Fall Down, Never Get Back Up Again by La Dispute (fav band right there omfg)  
> and  
> All Who Remain by Beware of Darkness  
> hopeless again by defeater
> 
> spoilers? cmon guys, you should know this by now.  
> also, not spoilers cause i'm kinda breaking from canon from here on. cause i realized i left out so big story wrap ups that i didn't mean to but oh well. also, canon? what canon?

Jun and John met Tom and Deacon outside of the police station encampment. The foursome looked like death moralized, faces shrouded in darkness and guns casting shadows larger than themselves. Juniper was still toting her missile launcher, which she had every intention of using. Hancock had upgraded to a rifle named Reba 2 that Jun had retrieved from a safehouse along the way. Deacon was wearing Brotherhood colors and Tom was actually wearing a specialty weave vest over his overalls. They were ready as they would ever be physically. Juniper was struggling to focus, her emotions getting the better of her. Glory was dead and she was about to murder people who had once given her sanctuary. She knew Haylen would be inside and it was a casualty she didn’t want to be responsible for. She had heard it through the grapevine that Danse was dead, discovered synth after the battle of Bunker Hill and the information released about the Institute. Focusing on that, she pushed herself forward. Maxson would pay for his bigotry and every person that signed on for his bullshit would fall with him.

Deacon and Tom took the stealth front, sneaking up the gates and remaining hidden on the defensive. Juniper kicked open the front gate and fired off a missile into the sentry in power armor. His screams penetrated the air as his body melted with the metal of his suit and lasted until his final breath. The courtyard clear, Hancock shadowed Jun through the front door, dropping two men who rushed them as she reloaded her launcher. Once ready, she shot right into the chest of the woman in power armor in the office, blowing the entire wall down with her. Rhys came around the corner, a shotgun aimed directly at Juniper’s heart.

“Fucking traitor, I fucking knew it!” He fired but Hancock caught Juniper by the arm just in time to pull her out of the direct fire. The pair ended up peppered with buckshot in their left arms, the ghoul taking most of the damage.

Hancock recovered first, planting a bullet right between Rhys’ eyebrows. Juniper took a deep breath, reloading and lifting the launcher back in place despite the pain stabbing through her shoulder.

“Thanks, he was always such an asshole.” Juniper’s voice sounded tired and very far away.

Hancock frowned. “You ok Sunshine?”

“I just want to get this over with,” Jun started up the stairs without another word.

They cleared the second floor and went to the roof, where they rejoined the Railroad agents. Tom had his hands above his head and Deacon had a pistol pointed at a someone inside the vertibird. Hancock strolled up beside Tom and trained his rifle on the person in question. Juniper broke through the line and she recognized Haylen, a laser rifle pointed at Tinker Tom’s head.

“Knight.” Haylen spat. “You are now an enemy of the Brotherhood and stripped of all titles. How could you? What about Danse?”

“What about Danse?” Juniper emphasized the second word, dropping her weapon and folding her arms over her chest. “That psycho you pledge your life to killed him. You and I both know Danse was more loyal to the cause than any natural born human. You lot fucking killed him in cold blood.”

Juniper’s eyes were savage. When she kept her cool she was more terrifying than her most rage filled rampage. Hancock looked at her sideways, he was not aware of Danse’s death and it gave him pause. “All his loyalty earned him a bullet in the back?”

It was Deacon who nodded. “The same time we found out that Danse wasn't human, we found out about his death. He was a good man.”

“A damn good man,” Haylen echoed. “I begged Maxson to just send him away, to exile him. The bastard didn’t listen.” The light from the roof showed a glittering line of tears trailing down her cheeks. “I can’t abandon post, I won’t disobey Danse’s last order.”

Juniper took a knee, her head feeling too heavy for her shoulders. The buckshot stung, suddenly more painful that it was before. Months of sleeplessness slammed into her, tears brimming in her eyes. “How much more?” She demanded. “How many more people have to die for some singular jackass’s misguided belief of what is right?” Glory. Danse. Shaun. Each and every life that fell at her hands. She was no better than the men she was going up against.

“Stand down, kid.” Hancock’s gentle voice didn’t match the tense situation. “Just go back home, Danse wouldn’t want you dying over his words.”

Haylen considered this momentarily, pulling her finger back from the trigger. “What would you know about Paladin Danse, mongrel?”

The ghoul smiled but it held none of his usual violence. “He may have hated me, but he sure did love you. That tin can never shut up about you. In fact, I’m pretty sure the only reason that asshole in the sky didn’t condemn your whole unit was Danse’s doing.”

“What about you, traitor? What do you say?”

Juniper didn’t raise her head, her face still in her hands. “I say I don’t want to kill you, Haylen. Because I like you too, and because I wouldn’t spite Danse’s memory by taking the one person he worked so hard to protect this whole time.”

Juniper wasn’t watching but she heard the exhale and clatter of the laser rifle. Haylen slid from the vertibird and no one moved until the door to the lower levels opened and closed. Deacon lowered his weapon and sighed, giving Tom a once over.

“We won’t have much time, let’s get going.” Tom said.

They crowded into the vertibird and Hancock took point with the mounted minigun as Juniper braced herself at the other side with her partymaker. The couple shot down three more vertibird reinforcements that were trying to land as Tom managed to shakily get them in the air. He narrowly avoided a few rooftops but he brought them in sight of the Prydwen. While Deacon faked their entry, Juniper prepared herself to slay an entire airship of people. If she could just get out of her mind it would be enough to get the job done, but each time she closed her eyes she saw Glory’s face, heard her looking for the light. It wasn’t enough to send her into a blind rage again. She just wanted to sit down and cry. Flesh of her flesh, heart of her heart, gone just like that.

“For Glory,” Deacon said, as he jumped down onto the deck of the enemy ship. “Let’s plant these bombs and get out of here.”

Hancock followed him out and Juniper took up tail. Tom would be protecting their ride. The first paladin recognized her and before he could radio in, Hancock had lodged a grenade down his powerarmor. He shot Jun a thumbs up and slid inside the door. This was a trip for the ghoul, who was still trying to wrap his head around all the things that were happening. Things were changing so fast and he still felt like the last person to know. No one had asked him if he wanted to take on the Brotherhood. The answer would have been yes regardless but it still would have been nice to be asked, he thought. He was thankful for one thing; Juniper had not opposed to him coming and he was happy to step in the line of fire for her. Literally, apparently, as she had frozen when that balding prick in orange had fired on her earlier. If Hancock hadn’t seen him come in the room, Jun would likely be dead. She was still stuck inside her head and it wasn’t a good idea to mobilize so quickly but they hadn’t been left with a choice. Taking a deep breath, the ghoul readied for the next round.

Juniper wasn’t doing so hot. Letting Haylen go had probably been a mistake, she could radio in at any moment and tell the enemy just how few their number were. The element of surprise was all they really had. Deacon was already gone, blended into the sea of Brotherhood soldiers. She said a quick prayer to no one in particular that she wouldn’t accidentally kill him by mistake, the asshole. Her hands were shaking. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the present, on the rage, on murder, she just kept seeing Glory’s face, so alive and then gone in an instant. Her insides were hurting but she knew it was guilt, not a broken heart that she was feeling. Guilt for not ever treating Glory better, guilt for avoiding her after breaking things off. Juniper felt like she had played just as big a hand in the synth’s final end as the bullets that ran her through. Self pity was a dangerous thing and it was drowning the sole survivor. Hancock had been right, something had changed insider her after finding her son. That hope she had carried all year long that maybe, somewhere out there was a just and righteous universe that would allow her to raise Nate’s son like he deserved, had burned out to ashes, blown away by nightmares. Nate was dead.Shaun was not a child, not even an adult worth saving.

Jun hadn’t noticed when she started to hope. Maybe it was the same time she started loving. Whenever it happened, she definitely hadn’t been informed about it and when that hope was taken she felt more dead inside than when she witnessed her husband’s murder. Now she didn’t have a revenge driving her. Now she didn’t need to find her son before he got older. Every goal she had been working toward had been destroyed. But that was a lie itself. She had new children, Preston, Piper, Macready; kids that were barely taking care of themselves. She had a husband, or something that resembled one, waiting for her to come home safe each time she ran off. Now she needed revenge again, for Glory’s death. She only needed to convince herself that she was not the responsible party and things would get on much quicker. A hand at the small of her back broke her from her thoughts and Juniper looked up directly into pitch black eyes.

“C’mon Sunshine, they’ve already took two of ours. It’s time to even the score.” Her lover knew just what to say to motivate her and when she studied his face she saw her muddied emotions reflected back from him.

Hancock cocked his gun and nodded at her and Juniper smiled. “Nothing to lose but each other,” she said.

Juniper and Hancock braced with their backs against the door and fired into the soldiers that emerged from the hatch below them. Lancer-Captain Kells received a missile all his own for the missions he sent children on, Proctor Quinlin got a nice shell lodged between his eyes and his testes, but not in that order, because Hancock was almost positive it was that four-eyed prick who sold out Tiny Dancer to the hounds. When there was a literal pile of burning, bloodied bodies in front of them, the couple split up with a divided stash of explosives to adhere to the ship’s beams. Once the bombs were placed, they made their way back down to the vertibird docks. But when Jun stepped down the last step she saw Maxson, who had been conveniently absent in the firefight, holding Tom at gunpoint.

“If another one of the bastards holds poor Tom to a barrel, I just might lose it.” Hancock’s voice was a whisper and a growl that somehow managed to carry all the way to the hijacked vertibird.

Jun strode forward, handing off partymaker to her ghoul. “Maxson. Taking the coward’s way out I see.”

“Not at all,” the smug prick smiled. “I’m ensuring you listen while I talk, because apparently we’ve had some conflict on that front, Knight.”

“I do apologize, Elder, but I resign. Effective when you starting killing off my friends.”

“Synths, Knight, were never alive therefore cannot die.” He shoved Tom forward. “Though it is refreshing to see you actually take company with the living, even if they are traitors to their race.”

“Better watch your mouth, pretty boy.” Hancock cared not for the showboating and pointed the loaded missile launcher at the Brotherhood leader.

“Do not address me, filth. I will cleanse you from the Earth soon enough.”

“Maxson. I challenge you, here, now. Prove to me that you truly are a worthy leader and not just some kid who got lucky with a boxcutter once.” Juniper traced a finger down her own scars, snarling. “Hand to hand and let’s see just who is more human.”

Maxson, for all his worth, waiting a breath before his ego launched him forward. He stopped just short of chest to chest with the white haired woman before removing his coat and weaponry. Juniper followed suit, shedding her Minutemen coat and her holsters. She handed her ripper off to the ghoul and sent him and Tom to the vertibird.

“In fifteen minutes, blow this cracker stand, whether you see me off it or not, understand?” Juniper finally felt like the angel of death that she had originally channeled upon thawing. Her eyes were wild and she was smiling.

Hancock immediately vacated the vertibird. “Like hell.”

“Hey,” Juniper shook the wrist where she wore her pip-boy. She still had the Institute’s teleporter. “I’ll be right down, have a stimpack ready for me hot stuff.” She dramatically blew the ghoul a kiss before returning her gaze to an infuriated Maxson.

Deacon had returned somehow unnoticed and was pulling Hancock by the elbow back on board. “She’ll make it out bud, she always does.”

Without a backwards glance, the vertibird flew off.

 

Salt, blood, and burning metal permeated the air. The first light of dawn was setting the horizon on fire, orange and red glowing over the ocean as if a giant hellmouth had opened beneath the flying fortress. In the distance, a lone vertibird landed on a small peninsula and it’s inhabitants watched the blimp with weary hearts. On the deck of the Prydwen were two figures circling each other like vultures over a fresh kill. The woman was crouched forward, baring her teeth in a snarl. The man was stiff and walked against her as if he was observing a work of art, his hands at his sides. Juniper jerked her chin at him, eyes shadowed against the darkness of dawn.

“Elder Arthur Maxson,” She used his name like a spell, claiming dominion over him. “By the powers vested in me by the free people of the Commonwealth, I hereby pronounce you an enemy of the free state of Massachusetts.”

He scoffed. “The powers vested in you? Your Railroad has no more power than a thorn in my side.”

Jun smiled but it held no happiness. “A thorn that killed all your soldiers in under an hour, without power armor at that.”

Maxson brought his fists up in a form reminiscent of the old irish pub fights Jun used to pull Nate out of when they first moved to Boston. His shoulders looked heavy and he was standing flat footed, a tank to tango with. Juniper preferred free moving forms, staying on the balls of her feet and keeping her hands relaxed to strike fast and plenty. As they circled, she evaluated him. A shot to the torso would land her a fractured wrist, shoulders would do the same. She would need to focus on his head but he held his arms like an iron gate, ready to raise and lower to block her every move. She would need to distract him to get a hit in, because even speed was no use against cement.

“The Brotherhood is many and you are but a spec on map. What do you hope to accomplish?”

“Ha! I should have figured you didn’t care about them. Not after Danse.” Jun spat at his feet, dashing left as he shot a fist out at her. “Tell me, Max, did you grieve him?”

“He was an abomination and I exterminated him.”

Juniper lunged, landing a succession of small punches on the Elder’s stomach before rolling back into the circle. “You speak like a true American, ‘make the Commonwealth great again.’” She bared her teeth in a snarl. “The men who blew up the world said the same thing. ‘We’ll make America great again!’ It was just a bunch of neo-fascist bullshit to spread the capitalist religion. But I don’t expect you to know that, after all; you’re just a kid playing wargames.”

Maxson charged her, his heavy steps thudding like the theme to Jaws as he swung wide and missed the General. She took advantage of her position and fired her fists at his left knee, sending him down to kneel before her as she retreated. The Elder rose, his breathing heavy.

“Ghoulfucker, I should have killed you when Danse drug you in.” He threw another fist and backed her into the balcony of the vertibird dock. If he got a hit in here, she would go over the edge and end up a pancake in the airport below.

“Jealous, Max? My ghoul fucks me good, too.” Jun kicked out at the knee she had assaulted earlier and but it didn’t give this time, Maxson expecting it. As she tried to swoop out of his way, a thick fist caught her right in the jaw on the scarred side of her face.

Juniper saw stars, her jaw hanging loose at the wrong angle. She had managed to get her back away from the edge but it had cost her. Taking a deep breath, she reached up and forced her jaw back into it’s socket. Boy would that hurt in the morning. At least the bruising wouldn’t be noticeable among the rest of her frostbite, she thought. The extra minute she took to steady herself gave Maxson time to readjust and when her vision focused he was in front of her again, sending a piston fist into her gut. She doubled but didn’t fall, war was a great prelude to fisticuffs. After getting a laser straight through a vital organ, punches were like nothing.

Maxson growled and the sound echoed off the wind that whipped around them. Jun stole a glance at the sunset as she straightened, five minutes had passed. She had to wrap this up or she was going down with the ship, and that was the captain’s duty. Rolling and coming up with another kick to weaken the knee, Jun quipped.

“Say Max, are you jealous of my dear ghoul? After all, I’m the last pure pre-war flesh. Thawed and clawed, baby.” She had managed to grab him by the shoulder and lock on to his neck, slamming punch after punch into his temple. For what it was worth, Maxson didn’t even stagger until the eighth hit.

The Elder clawed at his head, grasping for her but finding nothing. “Filth, you’ll be dead soon and everyone you love will follow.”

“Hush little baby,” Jun was lithe and slid from his shoulders, staying behind him and peppering him with blows to the throat. “Don’t say a word,” He stumbled forward. “Momma’s gonna blow up your pretty little bird.”

Her voice carried like a ghost and she danced circles around him. Maxson was a tactical genius, true, but he had not been in combat in too long. He didn’t know anything but force and with an assassin, force was it’s own downfall. As if he had a chance, Maxson loomed over the the edge of the deck, gathering his strength. Juniper approached him head on, thinking it was finally over and she would deal the killing blow. Instead, Maxson turned, brandishing a pistol he had found some time during their fight. He fired on her, not bothering to aim at close range. Bullets spun past her, taking skin off her already wounded shoulder and trimming a few stray hairs on her head. The General did not stop her advance. Now furious, Juniper lost all the thrill in her eyes. Teasing was over.

“Only way you leave here is as a corpse!” Maxson raged, holding the pistol with one hand and taking a few steps forward. Two of his shots landed and tore through the survivor. Her white shirt was now black with her blood, two growing stains at her stomach. She didn’t even flinch.

“Cheaters never prosper, Max.” Her voice was eerily hollow. Grey eyes locked on him and staked him in place. Sweat drenched his suit, the smell of fear rolled from him in waves.

Unarmed, Juniper met him, a fist slammed into his wrist and knocked the gun overboard. Another slammed into his solar plexus, Maxson unable to block when she was already inside his defense. This time, when she kicked into his knee the bone shattered and bent unnaturally to the left. He collapsed against the railing, struggling to stay upright.

“This is how you die, Arthur Maxson. Understand it, accept it.” Jun rested her hands on either side of his temple, forcing him to look into her dead eyes. “My name is Juniper James, of the 75th Power Armor front line assault, wife of Nathaniel James, mother of Shuan James the former leader of the Institute and now I inherit it. I am the General of the Minutemen and an agent of the Railroad.I am new life. I am justice in a world of ruin. I am death and I come for you.”

“Fuck you,” Maxson growled.

Juniper snapped his neck.

The fight was over. There were three minutes before the Prydwen would blow and she needed to leave now. Sore and tired, she jogged over to the start and scooped up Maxson’s jacket, a prize in itself. Jun had told Hancock that she would teleport out of danger, but there wasn’t enough time to guarantee her escape that way. Without looking back, she strode to the end of the docking bay where the railing overlooked the ocean. She could see the vertibird Tom had flown on a distant island, away from the blast. This was it. With one last look at her lover on the horizon, she jumped, plummeting into the icy water below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, i spent three weeks trying to rescue danse because maxson glitched when i exited the hidey hole and just kept walking across the sky and got eaten by a deathclaw and just, so much feels guys. so many feels. and like i'm still salty and because the salt i completely forgot to add in his personal story and i 100% meant to but like, at this point, we've come so far. SIGH. i reloaded so many times, re-did so many missions to try to fix it and never did so i had to give up. i'm so sad.  
> in other news  
> i realized that without meaning to, i based Juniper a lot off the Black Mamba from Kill Bill. momma out for revenge is 100% babe material. also, i'm working on some new art for sweet jun and john.


	13. The One Called Swan Dive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you live in the wastes, everything is a near death experience. so if dying is the norm, when do you talk about living?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs:  
> ascension - O'Brother  
> I want to feel alive - the lighthouse and the whale  
> to build a home - the cinematic orchestra  
> First day of my life by goody grace  
> up all night by best coast  
> second nature by stalking gia

Juniper closed her eyes and braced for the cold waters of the radiated Atlantic. The last ray of sunset illuminated her fall, but the moment she hit the water her world went black. Off the coast, three men watched as she swan-dived out of an explosion. Chunks of the blimp went raining down after her as it crashed into the airport. Tom cursed. Deacon ran to the edge of the water but Hancock was close behind.

“Too many rads for you, smoothskin. There’s not enough room in this club for two ugly mugs.” Hancock stripped from his coat and boots, leaving them and his hat behind with Deacon.

The ghoul, dressed in only his trousers and blouse, dove into the ocean and swam as fast as his arms would carry him to the last place he saw Jun surface. Waves took him under again and again until he was finally at the edge of the explosion. He dove, catching only a glimpse of the glow of her pip-boy falling further into the darkness. Minutes passed before he breached the surfaced, Juniper hanging from his shoulders. Instead of heading back to the others, he pulled to to the closest shore, out of the radiation filled water.

Hancock rolled her on her side and tried to purge the water from her lungs, but it wasn’t enough. The ghoul struggled to remember what he knew of resuscitation and cpr but it didn’t amount to much. Frantically pumping on her chest and blowing air into her lungs was only earning him exhaustion.

“C’mon Jun, come back to me. Not like this you bastard, not yet.” His eyes felt hot.

On a whim, he checked her pockets, spending valuable time looking for a stimpack. For anything. Luckily, all was not left in a coat with Deacon as Jun carried a bottle of rad away and a stimpack in a pack tied to her thigh. Not wasting another second, Hancock stabbed the syringe into the meat of her thigh and went back to pumping air in her chest.

From beneath the darkness, Jun stirred. She was on a beach on a sunny summer day, white hair billowing past her as waves crashed rhythmically on the shore. The smell of salt surrounded her and as she pushed forward, sand sticking to her bare toes, she saw an umbrella in the distance with a body laid out beneath it’s shade. Coming closer, she recognized her lover, shirtless and reclining with an arm over his head. This scene was wrong. The thought pegged her like a bullet. The sea didn’t look like this anymore.

“Stay with me a little longer,” A familiar voice came from beside her. Nathan.

Juniper whipped her head, looking for the source. Sure enough, Nathaniel sat on his own towel to the right with a beer in his hand and a smile on his face. At her husband’s voice Hancock growled. Jun walked further into the sand, to the edge of the water, letting the waves touch her feet as she tried to focus. This wasn’t real. So if this wasn’t real, where was she really?

“Come back to me, Sunshine,” Hancock’s voice was like silk under the shade.

“We gotta grow old together, darlin’, stay with me.” Nate was the picture of health, his bronze skin sheen with sweat from the heat and his dark hair loose around his forehead. That damn prosthetic standing out as the chrome clashed with his flesh. But his accent was wrong. Nate was raised in Texas, his mother’s mexican tones should be colored every letter that crossed his lips. Jun shied away, instinctively backing towards her ghoul.

“Please Jun, I need you.” Hancock was standing now, the sun burning his skin as he closed the distance between them.

A growl erupted from Nate. “We still have so much to do! Stay with me Juniper!”

Pain burned in her chest, shooting up from her legs. Her eyes opened but she couldn’t see. As her vision adjusted, the beach changed. Fire in the distance, smoke filling her nose, the smell of death rolling in with the waves. This was reality. Struggling to see, she could still hear Hancock chanting as his hands worked on her chest. Something was very, very wrong. She tried to say his name but all that came out was water and coughs.

“There’s my girl. God fuck Sunshine, you really had me going there.” He scooped her up and held her to his chest, his hands still shaking in fear.

“Hancock,” Jun tried again, this time the word came out but only as a whisper. The ghoul ignored it, gently rocking her back and forth in his arms. “Hancock.”

This time he leaned back to look in her face, his brows scrunched together in concern. Jun fought to bring her hand up to touch his cheek. “You’re glowing.”

The green glow that was encompassing them both was not her pip-boy, like he had assumed. The ghoul dropped his arms immediately and scooted himself away from the woman. He regarded his arms, glowing against the thin white fabric of his shirt and his hands, green orbs of light. A new fear started in the pit of his stomach. The radiation from the ocean had actually affected him, he was going green.

“Sunshine,” he said in a voice used only for suicide jumpers and people with guns to their heads. “You need to get as far away from me as you can. Just go. Deacon and Co. are right over that hill. Please.”

Jun laughed, shaking her head.

“Please Sunshine,” he pleaded, his arms out in surrender. “As sweet as you taste, I really don’t want to eat you alive.”

Still laughing, a light sound against the waves crashing on the shore, Jun closed the distance that Hancock had gained between them. “Listen ghoul,” She grabbed the lapel of his blouse and pulled him in. Soaking wet, he looked even thinner. “You aren’t getting away that easy. A shower and some rad-away will fix that right up.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Jun nuzzled her face into the crook of his glowing neck. “You’ll be a much better flashlight than this pipboy.”

As she said it, Jun fished the forgotten pill bottle out of her pants and shoved it into his chest. Hancock downed the whole bottle in one swallow, holding onto Jun’s hand for dear life. Of all the times the needed to be right, this one was tops. They stayed like that for a few more minutes, the shadows of the airport fire dancing in front of them. Death and destruction followed them like a plague, Hancock mused.

“Juniper, you are the love of my long life. If I can grow old, I want it to be with you.”

“Lame.” Jun replied. “I don’t want to be old. I want to kick ass by your side until the new world rises.”

Hancock scoffed, running a glowing hand over her wet hair.

“But you know what? I’m pretty sure you’re the love of my life, too, hot stuff.”

Their moment was interrupted by the beating wings of an approaching vertibird. The pair tensed, anticipating the worst. Instead, the craft hovered over them and Deacon reached out a hand to help them aboard. Hancock lifted Jun first, her legs still weak from near drowning. Once they were loaded, Deacon spoke.

“Like the new look,” he quipped.

Jun feigned ignorance, elbowing Hancock to do the same.

“What are you on about?” the ghoul glared.

Surprisingly, Tom laughed. “Where to? I can drop off the cargo before I hide this bad boy.”

“Sanctuary,” Jun told him, her hand sliding over the ghoul’s knee. He was busying himself by draping both his and her coat over her shoulders to keep her warm. “I think we’ve got some time before the Brotherhood recovers, if ever, and the Institute will be satisfied that something is happening.”

“What’s the plan?” Deacon asked.

“Well, a bath, for sure.” Juniper laughed weakly and Hancock shoved his feet into his boots. She rested her head on his shoulder as Tom steered them across the Commonwealth back to safety.

A couple hours later, Jun and Hancock were sliding out of the vertibird into the streets of Sanctuary. What the streetlamps didn’t illuminate, the ghoul did and settlers began to peek out of the commonhouse to see what was going on. Tangling her fingers in his, Jun led Hancock out of the street to the back of the ruined houses. Behind dead bushes and rusted fences, she kicked a pile of leaves away to reveal a cellar door. She opened it, motioning Hancock down first and she followed, closing the hatch as she descended.

The cellar was small, a little hole filled with cinder blocks and metal shelves line with cans of pure water and sugar bombs. There was a mattress that took up the right side of the room and a small safe nestled in the corner. It looked as if no one had been inside it for years, yet it smelled like tarberries, like Juniper. Once settled with both feet on the ground, she crossed the room and shrugged out of her coat and arms, laying the coat on the end of the mattress as a pillow. She pushed Hancock to sit on the bed and turned to the shelves to find a cloth and can of water.

“So, it this where you bring all your glowing boyfriends?” It was meant to come off as a casual statement, but jealousy bit at the ghoul’s tone. Juniper was bent at the hip digging through a cardboard box, her rear round and in his face in the small quarters.

“I only have one glowing boyfriend.” Jun straightened, turning her grey eyes on him. She wasn’t smiling.

Jun had found a small bucket and a mostly clean rag. She pulled out a knife from her boot and stabbed a hole in two cans of pure water, pouring them into the bucket over the rag. Slowly, deliberately, she straddled Hancock, pulled his hat from his head and placed it on her own. His eyes fell to his lap where their bodies met, a hiss pulling from his lips. His face cast a green glow between them, shadows falling across Jun’s cheeks and making her gaze as black as the ghoul. Tenderly, she ran the cloth over his forehead to wash away the remains of the sea. Hancock closed his eyes as lukewarm water dripped onto his cheekbones. His mind was running circles, thoughts he knew were wrong but he couldn’t stop even though he tried. They were safe, for now, but how long would that last. How long would he keep seeing the faces of people who could easily be better for his girl. Who wouldn’t glow and be a constant threat each sunrise. Someone with a future and not just an eternal one. Someone she could grow old with. Someone who could give her a real family. No, he reminded himself. That’s not what she wanted. But what if it was?

“So, what is this place? Sex den?” Sighing, he decided it was as good a time as any to address the jealousy he had so much trouble dealing with.

“Heh,” Jun placed a kiss on his nose hollow, dipping the cloth and bringing it up to his neck.

A shiver took Hancock. “Jun, I’m sorry, I just-”

He couldn’t finish, Juniper leaned back in his lap, grinding their hips together as she did so. Hancock let out a groan that turned to a growl as she pushed his coat off his shoulders and opened his blouse. Her expression was unreadable under the shade of his hat, the glowing of his face had dimmed making the room even darker.

“Is this about Nick?” Jun asked, gently making circles on his collarbone. “Because I promise you, that’s nothing.”

Hancock couldn’t meet her eyes, ashamed that he was even making a deal out of this, especially tonight. Juniper continued. “I wanted something physical and he didn’t. I respect him for that and it’s not a place I’ll ever look again.”

Jun was trailing the rag with little kisses and nips down his shoulder. “It’s not him, be careful of the radiation Sunshine.”

Hancock looked up, not meeting her eyes but focusing on her hair. He pushed off the tricorn, tugged loose her tie, and let the long topknot fall over her shoulders. Her sides were growing out, leaving white fuzz poking out above her ears. He ran his fingers through it, curling them around her longer locks. Why did she smell of tarberries? After all, she was born before they existed as he understood it. Did he want to change the subject? Desperately. He felt guilty for bringing it up already.

“Jun, why tarberries?” A hand dropped to her waist and pulled her back in, her lips nestled on his throat. “I mean, why does everything, this place, your clothes, your hair, why does it always smell like tarberries?”

Juniper’s laugh vibrated against his thick skin, eliciting a sigh. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

“I didn’t expect so. I’m still curious about it.”

“I’ll share if you do.”

“Deal.” Hancock said.

Jun took a deep breath and pulled a strand of her hair free from his fingers. “Back when I first surfaced, I was absolutely disgusted with my hair. This white was so different, so...” She waved her hand in place of the right word. “First time I visited the Slog, Deirdre told me she could fix this. Said a bunch of smoothskins bought tarberries for the dye inside them, that it would turn my hair back red. I spent a hundred caps on the shit and went about my way. Needless to say, she swindled me. Nothing happened. I just looked like a fool with juice in my hair.”

“How did you ever survive on your own,” Hancock shook his head, a personal smile pulling at his lips.

“I went back, looking to rip her a new one but the settlement was under attack. I helped out and after, I stormed right up to her but Wiseman intercepted. He had heard and made her pay back every cap, which was stupid in itself because even if I smashed them on my damn head the tarberries were worth the price. I told her to keep it and Wiseman appreciated it more than anything.”

“So what, til this day you still smash berries on your head?”

Juniper caught one of his hands and bit down, a punishment before she went on. “No. Not really. I had met you shortly after the hair incident and well, I noticed you,” Jun broke into a laugh, biting her lip to curb herself. Hancock growled in response, noticing her more intimately. “Here I was, shaking in my boots for getting wrapped up in a con job on the scary ghoul mayor who already stabbed a guy just for being mouthy, but all he can do when he talks to me is sniff around. Literally. You sniffed my hair when you shook my hand, John.”

Hancock was wearing a full blown smile now, remembering the day she spoke of. “I wanted to be mad at you but you were just so fucking sexy standing there in my enemy’s blood smelling like forbidden fruit. It was all I could do not to drop to my knees and beg for you.”

The ghoul ran a finger over her jaw, tilting her chin to meet him for a kiss. She still tasted like sugar bombs and tarberries. Jun broke away just as he let out a moan. “I have a bottle of vodka and tarberry juice I use as a hair spray now. I had hoped it would get you into bed with me and well,” she ran her hand down his chest to his waistband.

Hancock caught her hand and brought it up, placing a kiss on each fingertip before releasing her. Freed, Jun found the cloth she had dropped and leaned back to dip it into the water pail. Soaking wet, she lifted it over her lover and squeezed, dripping water on his head into his eyes.

“Cool down baby, you still have to explain yourself.”

Hancock groaned as Jun slid off his lap to retrieve another can of water and light a few of the candles scattered around the small space as his glowing was receding. A tilt of her head told him to finished stripping his shirt so he did, his abdomen still light green. Jun made a small noise and pointed to his groin. Pants too. As he stepped gracefully out of his wet trousers Jun poured out the old water and filled the bucket with new.

“Lay down,” she commanded. “Flip.”

Hancock was on his stomach, facing away from her now. When her cold fingers traced down his spine, it sent a shock to his brain. Every touch from her was like the very first time he could feel. His eyes closed, he focused on sensing her. Her scent surrounded them, her jeans were still wet and pressing against his naked thighs. The candle flames danced to and fro in the underground, a celebration for the couple. Just one more minute of peace, one more touch before he opened his big dumb mouth, Hancock told himself. Tiny drops of water escaped over the curve of his sides, little pools forming in the worst of his scars.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Hancock’s voice was but a rasp, deep and sensual.

Jun leaned forward to glance a kiss over his shoulder. “You are beautiful. You don’t make excuses for me when I fail. You’re honest.”

“Damn you,” Hancock rolled, flipping Jun off him so that he could top her, hovering over her as she looked up at him from her lashes. Her smile was was something he craved and gods he was so happy she finally got over that damn bandanna for him. A calloused thumb ran over her chin and his tongue shot out to follow it. “I don’t want to share you. It drives me mad thinking I can lose you. I love you and it is driving me crazy.”

“Who do you think has my attention?” Jun idilly traced a scar on his chest before dropping to flick a nipple with a smirk. “You are my universe now, John. My everything.”

“That just makes this sound stupider out loud.”

“Was it Glory?” Jun’s voice dropped to a whisper.

Hancock scowled. “Fuck no. I won’t speak ill of the dead Sunshine. Besides, her and I hashed that out already.”

Jun nodded, not saying anything. Her hands kept moving, one thumb massaging the hollow of his hip while another traced a line from his navel to the muscle of his groin. He stiffened as she went lower, brushing the top of his length.

“Tell me. Honest, John.” She punctuated his name by curling her fist around him.

Hancock roared in response, black eyes freezing Jun in place as he bared his teeth. “Everyone! I hate it! I hate myself.” The ghoul reigned himself in. “Nick told me about Sturges. He got inside my head. I feel like every person I meet has had my lover before me and I want to kill them all so they never try again. I don’t,” He struggled to word it the best, to use the words that would make it right. “I don’t care that you had a life before me. I am not a saint. I just, I love you so much and I don’t know how to handle it. I’m so jealous, Juniper. I’ve never felt it before. I am so, so jealous.”

Hancock hung his head in shame, sitting back on his knees effectively pulling away from all of Jun’s touch. He brought a hand up to his face to hide the burning he felt in his eyes. Most of the glowing had subsided finally, the radaway putting in it’s usefulness. He no longer looked like a wild thing crazed to protect his mate. He just looked sad, in the very essence of the word. His shoulders slumped and his cheeks were more hollow than normal. In the dim light, his scarred skin was less evident making him look like a young man lamenting, not a hardened fighter ready for blood at the drop of a pin.

Juniper frowned, taken aback by how quickly the conversation had deflated. Instead of letting him mourn his words, she followed him up. Her hand wrapped around his, tangling their fingers and pulling it from his face. Her free hand wrapped around his head and forced him to look her in the eyes. The shame oozed from him like radiation.

“What is it you told that woman in Goodneighbor when she hit you up for a round?” Jun spoke so soft her voice was like rare unopened whiskey on his skin.

“What?”

“A few months ago, I was talking to Daisy. You didn’t think I heard, probably, but I did. You said ‘the one I got ain’t the type you go wandering on.’” Jun wiggled her head as she said it, imitating him. “It’s the same for me you know.”

Hancock exhaled, he could barely remember what she was talking about. It hadn’t been such an important statement to him, it was just the truth. “I trust you Sunshine, it’s not that. It’s stupid.”

“Sturges, Glory, Arturo,” Jun held up her fingers and ticked one off for each name she said. “Cait, Honest Dan, Irma, Magnolia once when I was high but Ham closed that up real quick, he loves her you know. That ghoul that guards your door with the pretty eyes, I let Travis get to second base when Scarlett turned him down. That’s it. Post-war at least. I hope you’ll be satisfied that everyone else has been dead for two hundred and sixty years.”

“You think Frankie has pretty eyes?” Hancock tried to laugh but it came out strangled. Jun beamed up at him.

“Not nearly as pretty as you, Mr. Mayor. Never as pretty as you.” Jun tilted her head and batted her lashes. A strand of white hair fell in her face and Hancock brushed it behind her ear on instinct.

“I’d be lying if I said I don’t care, but at least I’ll know who to stab if they start staring.” He leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. “Is it my turn to list now?”

“God no. I don’t want to spend another two hundred years underground thanks.” Juniper laughed and it infected the ghoul who laughed freely and loudly.

With the weight off his chest, Hancock felt like a different person. The names were not as important as the fact that she didn’t care to hide them. He was indeed jealous and would likely always be but somehow, here, in a cellar in her hometown with only candlelight and water between them he felt sated. Keeping control, Juniper walked her hands forward until the ghoul was on his back again and her hair hung like a curtain over him.

In the tight space, Hancock’s heartbeat was almost audible as the survivor straddled him, rough jeans brushing his most sensitive parts. With a growl that rumbled from deep in his chest, his hands went to her thighs, locking her in place. Jun laughed lightly, pushing his hands away. She peeled her tshirt off, sweat and water sheen on her skin in the yellow light making her lover moan again. He tried to touch her bare breast but she swatted his hand.

“Close your eyes,” she instructed. He obeyed.

Jun leaned down, reaching behind her for the full bucket of clean water. She chuckled and as Hancock peeked an eye open he caught the moment she tipped the bucket of water over on his stomach. The ghoul yelped at the sudden chill and surged up, catching both Jun’s wrists and pinning her to the wall the mattress sat against as she laughed in his face.

“Woman, I could kill you.” He glared at her, fighting off a shiver.

“You needed to chill out,” she giggled.

Instead of retorting, he dipped his head to lick up a water trail that crested over Jun’s breast. She shivered under him and not from the cold. The sound that came from the ghoul was more like a purr as she pressed herself into his mouth. Hancock bit down drawing blood and leaving bruises in his wake as she squirmed under him.

“Cut it out,” Jun moaned half heartedly.

“Oh no, this is punishment.” He told her, cutting his teeth against the flesh of her neck. “For the water and for jumping off that damn blimp. I haven’t forgot.”

Moving both her wrists to one hand, he found her boot tucked under her ass and pulled free the knife she used earlier. He pointed the tip at her chest, careful not to catch her soft skin. It was a silent order not to move and Jun obeyed, hunger in her grey eyes. He tossed the knife behind him, out of harms way before returning to work Juniper’s boots off her feet. Laying her down after undressing her, Hancock admiring her naked body. Tight muscles ran under her abdomen where scars peppered the pale skin stretched over her limbs. Hancock parted her knees and lowered himself to her core

“Pardon me, but a certain ghoul told me he wouldn't eat me alive today,” Jun teased, her voice light as she pushed him back with a leg.

Hancock nipped her thigh. “That's Mayor Ghoul to you, Sunshine. Besides, I promise you'll die of pleasure first.”

“I shouldn't forget that politicians lie,” Jun chuckled once and tapped on his bare head. He met her gaze over the hills of her body.

“Tomorrow, when I look death in the face, I'll have you on my chin to remind me to come home.” His low voice vibrated on her skin.

“This is home?” Jun asked, looking up towards Sanctuary.

“No,” Hancock trailed kisses from her thigh to her chin. “This is.” He met her lips like it was the last kiss he would ever have.

Sunrise came but it's light did not touch the underground bunker. The couple inside were still awake, however, having not slept a single moment all night. Hancock lay naked on the mattress, a roll of clothes under his head. The glowing had finally subsided and many of the candles had burned down to flickering nubs. Juniper was straddling the ghoul wearing only his red coat and tricorn, doing her best to find a single ticklish spot on her lover. A frown crossed her face in defeat as he beamed up at her.

“You’re no fun at all,” she told him.

“Your body begs to differ.” He was right, Jun was covered in the evidence of their coupling. Scratches, bruises, and bite marks covered her pale skin, standing out against older scars with their fresh red puckering. The bunker no longer smelled of tarberries but of sweat and sex.

Jun wiggled in his lap in response, making him groan. “You filthy animal,” she teased.

“Oh, I'm absolutely feral.” The mattress whined in protest as Hancock flipped his lover to the floor. She looked so delicious in nothing but his outerwear that he needed her again. The night had not been long enough to make up for their lost time since her zap to the Institute. Hancock felt starved of a part of himself, quenched only when she was wrapped in his arms with a smile in her eyes and his name on her lips.

“Someone save me from this awful ghoul!” Jun yelled, half laughing half moaning as Hancock's hands roamed. Exactly what he needed.

The two continued well into the evening, the walls of the cellar absorbing any sound that might give them away. For once in their long, lonesome lives, the two found peace in each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bless you for sticking around. everything is stupid and i'm not ok so this is a happy place and you're attentions make me smile. after this i'm writing fucktons of fluff because i don't want to be sad for a while.  
> as always, easy access to the playlist here:  
> https://play.spotify.com/user/ravenclaw182/playlist/3cbValnlechVrZoyBGDlJN
> 
> check out Stories From the Commonwealth and Other Mischief for more juniper and also some Nate (miraculously alive and traveling boston)


	14. The One With Politics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> moving the story forward slowly, Jun doles out her last will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's spoilers? still? so?
> 
> I don't have a song for this chapter, i'm sorry. but the playlist has def expanded. 
> 
> ps, if you catch anyone stealing my work be it characters, plots, ect let me know because i have deleted accounts over less. i have a zero tolerance policy for theft of any kind of art and i really hate art thieves.

Someone dropped another bomb. No, not a bomb. The dreadful echo pounding in Jun’s temple was from someone banging on the cellar doors. The candles had burned out hours ago, leaving the underground pitch black and cold in the dirt. Beside her, the Mayor of Goodneighbor was rousing with a string of curses. Whoever was knocking so gracefully finally threw open the hatch, letting sunlight rain into the bunker without warning. 

“I’m going to fucking kill someone,” Hancock snarled as he rolled out of bed. He wore only his trousers, unbuttoned and hanging loosely off his thin hips. 

As he stood up he scooped his tricorn off the floor and onto his head, black eyes glaring up at the ladder. The light was too bright to make out the culprit. Jun was still laying on the end of the mattress, wearing Hancock’s blouse with the American flag tied around her waist and nothing else. Her hair hung in wild puffs around her face, making her look a few years younger and much less intimidating. Lazily, she pulled a pipe pistol from under the mattress and aimed it at the open hatch. 

“Wait,” Hancock shot her a sideways glance. “Has that been there the whole time?”

Jun ignored him. “How the hell did you find this place?”

The familiar voice of Piper the reporter floated down to them in such a way it was obvious that she was not looking at them anymore. “A reporter never shares her secrets.”

“That is exactly the opposite of what a reporter does, Pipes.” Unashamed of her current state of dress, Juniper rolled from the bed and dropped the pistol back to it’s place before climbing the ladder into the harsh light of day.

Piper was not alone, standing next to her with his arms crossed was Nick Valentine. Hancock had donned his coat before ascending and emerged much less chipper than Jun. His scowl looked like it might leave a permanent imprint in his cheeks and when he caught sight of Valentine his disgust was audible. While Jun had no qualms of taking an audience without pants, the ghoul did not approve. Especially not with Nick, whom he childishly stuck a tongue out at before shedding folding his arms over his chest. The bushes that hide the little hold from plain sight rustled in the wind and judging by the place of the sun Jun decided it had to be late afternoon, meaning they had spent an entire day and night underground. A private smile pulled at her lips before she caught herself and kicked piper in the shin with a bare foot. 

“What the hell do you want now, nosy?” Jun teased. 

Nick tried to look anywhere other than Jun but was failing miserably. “We heard the Prydwen blew up. Red here wants the story.” 

“And the detective could care less, right?” Hancock grumbled. “Can someone please turn out that light?”

“You can’t turn off the sun, love.” Jun chuckled, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. To Piper and Valentine she said, “it was me. Well, it was the Railroad but I was there. Satisfied?” 

Piper shook her head, pulling out a notepad and pencil. “Tell me everything that happened! How did you get in? What happened to the Elder? Was Danse pissed?” 

The last part made Jun cringe. She hadn’t exactly had time to spread word about Danse while she was holed up in the Institute and Deacon had clearly been keeping his secrets safe. Jun toed the ashen dirt beneath her feet and as she inhaled to answer, Hancock took her hand. 

“Later, kid. There’s a lot of things that still haven’t been finished.” Hancock met Nick’s yellow eyes and spoke directly to him. “Any chance you could bring Jun here a fresh set of clothes so we can hit the road? We were trying to lay low for a bit.” He shot a glare at Piper. 

“Sure you were,” Piper snapped back. 

Nick nodded and pulled Piper away with him by the elbow.

Fully dressed, fed, and caught up on the plan, Jun sat at the head of the table in the commonhouse answering questions. She had filled in her closest friends and their messengers about the disaster that was the Brotherhood and Danse’s untimely death. Once the civilians drained from the room she gathered her companions and pulled a bottle of moonshine from a shelf in the pantry. So much work had gone into establishing Sanctuary as a safe haven but there was still so much to do. With the Institute still living, it was hard to know just who was the real threat, even after she read through all their secrets. 

Jun slouched down into her chair at the head of the table as she poured her drink then passed the bottle. Hancock sat on her left and Nick took up her right, the two heads she trusted unconditionally. Piper had radio’d Preston who was lucky enough to be in the area and made it halfway through the initial meeting. The two youngest took up the left of the table, Piper recording everything in her notepad and Preston shaking his head every other word. Macready sat next to Nick, he had been at Red Rocket when Nick passed through with Piper and decided to tag along. The shadow of his hat only made his frown look deeper. Deacon had apparently jumped ship after Hancock and Jun because he found his seat at the table next to Mac. The empty seat at the other end of the table was the loudest silence. Danse’s absence was felt by each of them, even those who didn’t favor him. 

“To the fallen,” Juniper said as she raised her glass. The table followed suit. 

“To the end of the Brotherhood of Steel,” Deacon said, slamming his glass down. 

“And to the downfall of the Institute,” Piper added, locking eyes on the General. 

Juniper regarded her closest companions. Cait was absent due to her recent venture with Curie that Macready described as ‘every little boy’s wet dream.’ The survivor knew better, as the two women also had a super mutant in their camp to babysit. But, if anyone would keep Strong entertained it would be Cait. Now that she was sober she was even more lethal with an even shorter temper. Crossing her arms over her chest, Jun mentally pushed herself past the empty seats. Preston had taken to caring for the Castle while she finished her personal business. As much as Jun had begged him to take the title from her, he continued to doubt himself. With a deep breath she addressed him. 

“Preston, if I don’t get back from this one, the coat goes to you.” The young man frowned, opening his mouth to protest but Jun’s tightening stare cut him off. “Ronnie is a tough old maid, but she’s past her time P. It falls to you, you’re the best of us anyway.” 

Preston dropped his gaze but nodded and Piper slid a hand over his arm in reassurance. Juniper focused on the reporter next and cleared her voiced to get her attention. 

“Piper, go back to Nat. Go back to Diamond City. There’s a letter for you in Nick’s office that is of utmost importance if I do not return. Handle that immediately.” 

The letter was one Jun had wrote during her stay inside the Institute. It contained a list of names of known synths and their locations. She had given a matching one to Deacon a while back, but the names in Piper’s list were highlights of the people considered most dangerous to the public. The letter instructed the girl to stay safe and print the list to the masses. Piper nodded. Juniper turned to Nick. His yellow eyes flickered as he met her inch for inch in a mental conversation. The detective refused to listen to plan b. Juniper needed him to keep all of them safe when she was gone. Nick told her she would not be gone long. Jun wasn’t planning to return at all, but she broke away from him before that truth washed over her face. 

The plans had already been made. She would sneak in a crew of Railroad agents who would escort the remaining synth rebels to safety while she rigged the reactor to blow the whole place sky high. The fact of the matter was, by destroying the Institute she was destroying the last of her family, her past, herself. The idea of killing her son, of killing Nathan’s son, had been weighing her down since she left the blasted underground. It was the proper course of action, no one could argue that, not even Jun. But as she stood on the third floor of the common house looking out at the island where she buried Nate’s body, the guilt stonewalled her. She told her company that this meeting was about the absolute mayday plan, but she knew it was plan a. Her first route of attack. After spending two days with Hancock in bliss, guilt hung around her like a noose. She could either shoot down her future or blow up her past and neither seemed like the better option. Taking a deep breath, Juniper reminded herself of the task at hand. 

“Deacon, you already have everything prepared with Dez, yes?” 

“Right as radiated rain, boss.” He grinned big at her, brushing his knuckles over the overalls he was wearing. 

“RJ,” Juniper said, smiling at him so gently the ghoul behind her had to shuffle to get comfortable again. “Get the fuck out of the Commonwealth. Read that letter, the leave.” 

Macready shook his head, “Now why would I go and do a thing like that?” 

Jun only smiled at him again. His letter outlined directions to a safe stocked will over ten thousand caps that she had steady collected from selling off the last of her pre-war belongings that she salvaged from her home before burning it down. It was amazing the price people in the Wasteland paid for a box of old Grognak comics and power armor schematics. Nathan had collected them for years and they weren’t doing him any good now so she pawned them off and was saving the caps for an emergency but when she learned about Mac’s son, she changed the savings to be his ticket back to the boy. 

With her goodbyes wrapped up, Juniper slammed her palms on the table. “Alright. Everyone knows their jobs. Tonight, we celebrate the end of our biggest enemy and tomorrow we bleed them dry.”

“Huzzah!” Deacon poured everyone another shot, getting the party started. 

Soon, the meeting room was alight with laughter and cigarette smoke. Macready had Hancock in an awkward hug that looked more like a headlock. Piper had ended up cuddled into Preston’s lap while the boy blushed into a glass of whiskey. Nick and Deacon were arguing about a synth’s ability to drink the man under the table. With the entire room distracted, Jun snuck out to the balcony toward the bridge that connected to one of the many buildings that had sprung up in Sanctuary since the rebuilding of her old home had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys, i've been really low on motivation lately and just struggling. this is not the most creative chapter, but it's moving things on. i'm def going to try to get things running again. i love you all! 
> 
> ps, it's my birthday this week and i got engaged this weekend!!
> 
> suffice it to say, my head is getting back to where it should be. thanks for bearing with me.


	15. The One In Juarez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sadness and Chems are the perfect mix for painful flashbacks ft. Nathan and Macready time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers, duh. 
> 
> songs for this one:
> 
> when U love somebody - fruit bats  
> Alive - Ben Phipps ft. Ashe

Juniper wandered down the candlelit stairs of the empty market building, keeping her hands in the pockets of the jeans Nick had found her. Her thoughts ran circles around her, to do right by her new love or keep her promise to the old? It wasn’t until she looked up that Jun realized her feet had carried her past the fences of the village and out to the river. Across from her sat the little island that housed only one tombstone belonging to a man who died some sixty years ago. Without caring about the radiated river water, Jun stepped out into the water, letting the cold rush over her thighs as she crossed the gap to her once husband. 

“If you were here, you’d tell me what’s right.” Juniper slid to her knees beside the rock and cross that counted as a tombstone. Reaching into her pocket she slid out a cannister of jet and inhaled it. The leaves slowed their dance in the wind and the sunset seemed to loom like the glow of a candle. 

“Goddamnit Nate, I buried you so that I could stop feeling this why does it still burn?” Closing her eyes, Jun dug her fingers into the dirt and tried to listen to the movement of the earth. Memories flooded her. 

Juniper had just finished a tour of Southern Asia with her Power Armor battalion. She was due for a promotion but some of the higher ups were still stiff on the idea of a woman ranking high enough to give orders so instead she was transferred to the base in Juarez. Mexico was a dry heat and Jun hated the place. The base was set up to keep guard on the movements in Cuba but really all that happened there was morning drills and tequila nights. After a month, Juniper had worked her way through most of the beds of the base residents. Bright orange hair, fierce blue eyes, and confidence that infected others tended to get her whatever she wanted and she wanted to unleash hell for being delegated to grunt work when she could be out fighting the communist incursion. Worst of all was the feelings that came with her relocation, as if she was a teen in foster care again, bounced around because no one wanted to keep her and her radical idealism that women counted. 

There was one person Jun had yet to set her claws in and that was more out of pity than inability. His name was Nathaniel James and he had lived on the base since it reopened. His mother had been a native of Juarez and his father had been stationed at the base during the first war. Nathan took after his mother, a stout catholic with the dark features of a latino who was no stranger to manual labor. The only thing he inherited from his father was his desire to leave the states, which was why he found himself in his mother’s country. Although he was a talented mechanic, he was known on base for his ease in translation and his uncanny ability to get alcohol for free from the locals. 

Juniper came to him for such uses that first night. Her anger rolled from her in tangible flames as she stormed into the hangar where her power armor was stashed among the others. Two black boots stuck out from beneath a vertibird, their owner out of sight. After a quick sweep of her surroundings Jun decided this must be the man everyone suggested her to see. 

“Nathaniel? Private James?” Her voice was tight with frustration. That morning she received another denial letter for her request to get back on the front lines. 

“Just Nate,” six feet of man slid from beneath the machine with trained ease. “What can I do you for friend?”

His smile was lopsided and he had a small scar on his chin. Hair as dark as ink stains was cut into a rebellious mohawk that he tied into a top knot. Nate wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of oil in place of the sweat he cleaned. His green jumpsuit was tied around his waist, framing the tight muscles of his abdomen. The other women living on base gossiped about the mexican adonis who could lift machines twice his size over their afternoon brunch. Even the men spoke freely of how Private James piqued at their jealousy. Jun folded her arms across her chest as she regarded him, a frown on her lips. Nate fell in love the moment he looked at her. 

“I’m told you can translate for me when I go into the city?” Short, to the point. Jun’s distaste worked in her favor and drove a bigger smile into Nate’s lips, his dimples showing. 

“I can do anything for you, ma’am.” Nate wiped his hands on his thighs and stuck one out for her to shake. “What’s your name?”

“First Sargent Juniper Peters, Power Armor 275.” She shook his hand, forcing all her lost authority into the gesture. Her desire to assert herself gave Nate butterflies. 

“I think I know just what you need, Juniper,” he pronounced her name in his native accent, turning the Ju into an Hoo. “Let me wash my hands and we’ll be on our way.” 

Nate led Jun into a small bar at the edge of town as far from the base as possible. He bought her bottles of Gwinnett Pale until her freckles turned pink and she smiled openly. To her own surprise, Juniper enjoyed the drinking more than she meant to and returned to Nate the next night asking for a repeat of their venture. The two continued the cycle for weeks until one night she let it slip that she was feeling suicidal after her fourth denial letter. Nate had migrated them from the bar to a spot on the countryside that let them look at the stars without interruption. He spread out an old carpet blanket on the hillside, brought a bottle of tequila, and a handful of tamales he bought from a cart on their way out of town. A light breeze passed between the two soldiers who lay close enough to breathe on each other without touching. 

“I was stupid to think the military would take me seriously. I thought maybe they would look past my gender and reward me for working so hard. Figures, though. I’ll never change the world.” Jun was sloshed, her cheeks flush with her buzz. Her eyes were on the moon, Nate’s were on her face. 

“You’re changing things just by trying, don’t give up yet.”

“No one has ever wanted me, why should now be different?” Twenty six years old and still just a tormented child, Jun tried to hide the tears that were brimming over her cheeks. 

Nate rolled to his side, propping his chin up on one hand and wrapping the other around a stray orange lock of hair. “I want you.” 

“Sure, want to fuck me. Everyone does.” she sighed but didn’t pull away. “They get what they want then they notch their belt and move on. At least you did have the decency to wine and dine me first.” 

Silence passed between them for moments before Nate stood and began pacing. Juniper couldn’t sit up without feeling dizzy so she tilted her head to watch him as he walked a line in the grass. 

“You believe in actions, Juniper. If you will be patient with me, I will show you just how much I want you.” Nate stopped pacing and knelt down beside her, taking her hand and helping her sit up. “I want to show you that you are worth so much more than these people.”

That was the first night they slept together. Their affair went on for six months before Jun found out she was pregnant. When Nate blew off his own leg, she realized just how far he was willing to go to protect her from the world. Nate was a giver. He gave his word. Then he gave her a home. He gave her a family. He gave her everything she never had and more but somehow he still hadn’t filled the void. Nate gave his life for her, for their son. Jun gave him the only love she knew how, by staying loyal and alive. Then she gave him a son and knew that no matter what happened for the rest of her life this boy was all the repayment Nate ever needed. The way he watched the tiny life they made was like she brought all the answers to the universe in a small, soft package. 

The urgency to preserve that life was what drove her to survive waking up in the afterworld. The need to avenge the one person who made her feel like she wasn’t worthless had been her one driver. When she finally came to terms with his death, his non-existance, a part of her filed that need to the back of her mind. Here was a world where she mattered, where her gender, her past, nothing could hold her back. She was needed. She was wanted. This fall out had given her what the world before the war could only hint at. What Nate had only dipped into. It would be so easy for her to selfishly move forward with her life and forget her husband, forget their son. Pretend this man she was going to kill was just a man and not the sole remaining piece of the only person who made her feel worth a damn before the end. 

Juniper’s mind was closing in on itself, a vortex of darkness that she couldn’t crawl out of on her own. The chems were only making it harder for her, extending the pain that she had accidentally let surface again. Trained killer as she was, she was so far in the abyss that she didn’t hear the other man approach. 

Macready sat down beside Juniper on the grave he helped her cover. It was quite possible that he was the only person who could precisely relate to her pain and he knew this, which was why when he noticed she had disappeared from the celebration he knew exactly where to look. Hancock had insisted the merc just point him in the direction so he could go to his lover, but Mac insisted he knew better what was going on in Juniper’s head. 

“My wife Lucy made this for me,” Macready’s voice was soft, almost carried away on the wind that was pushing the river around them. He held a toy soldier, the pain on it peeling from the number of times his fingers had brushed over it lovingly. “I told her I was a soldier. Never could bring myself to tell her I was just a hired killer. I didn’t want to lose her because of what I was.”

Jun palmed her eyes to clear her tears and glanced down at the model Macready held. He continued. 

“I told you she was killed by feral ghouls. I didn’t tell you she was ripped apart right in front of me. It took everything I had to escape with Duncan. Sometimes I think it would have been better if we died there with her.” 

“You lost your wife but you saved your son, that counts for something.” Jun whispered. 

“Maybe. I don’t know anymore. I miss her still, everyday.” He took a deep breath to steady his breaking voice. “When she died, I thought I’d never be able to depend on someone again. Then I met you. You have the entire world on your shoulders, but here you are trying to find a way out for the rest of us. Solving our problems. It means a lot to me, to all of us, that you even bother. I wanted this to come at a better time, but I think we might all grow old waiting for that.”

Macready handed her the toy soldier with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. Jun took it gingerly and turned it over in her hands, running her thumb across the little wood gun. “RJ I can’t take this, it’s all you have left of Lucy.” 

“My wife, the real Lucy, wouldn’t have wanted me to wait so long to get myself together. That’s the thing about survivor’s guilt, Jun. We make the dead into gods that we’re scared to blaspheme when they were people just like us, who made mistakes just like us. You and I both know your spouse and mind wouldn’t have wanted this for us. And if I was you and Duncan had grew into something unrecognizable, I wouldn’t hesitate. Lucy wouldn’t have. The Shaun you found is an insult to the memory of your husband and you know it.” Macready wrapped his hands around Jun’s, cradling them and the toy. He placed a soft kiss on her bent fingers before standing to leave. 

“Just remember that Jun, when you make that decision tomorrow.” Macready began to cross the river back to the settlement but stopped and turned to her one last time. “And if it’s any consolation, I want you to come back too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to Kallika and TotalFandomtrash for all the love. I updated tonight just for you! (:
> 
> this fic now had more pages in it than the novel i've been writing for the past three years. either my motivation is really skewed or i need to fix my priorities lol. 
> 
> blessings and happiness to each and every one of you, the notifications make my days brighter. reminder the playlist is on my spotify account because it's too massive for 8tracks at https://play.spotify.com/user/ravenclaw182/playlist/3cbValnlechVrZoyBGDlJN  
> which can be opened in a chrome webpage. probably other browsers too but i'm a google elitist soooo. 
> 
> much love fam


	16. The One Where Things Get Tense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the ups and downs of a relationship rely on communication. sadly, that is the one thing these two lack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs:
> 
> Halo - Lottie Kestner  
> Jesus Christ - Brand New  
> still life - the horrors  
> color - finish ticket (saw these guys open for 21p and holy cow they rock)
> 
> (ngl guys, i'm having a hard time remembering what songs i have and haven't used from the playlist since i don't keep them chronological. oh well.)

Hancock stood at the top of the guard tower, looking past the darkness that surrounded Sanctuary to the patch of land his lover sat at alone. His heart tightened for her but even keeping watch from a distance felt like an invasion of her privacy. She stopped crying when Macready left her, but she had yet to move which was unnerving the ghoul something awful. His palms were sweating and he kept rubbing them on his thighs in anticipation. In the sky above them, lightening cracked. A storm was brewing and by the scent of it, it was bringing radiation. The strengthening wind blew his tricorn from his head and in the time it took him to bend and retrieve it Juniper had disappeared.

The sky quickly lit up green, even though it was well past midnight. Like an omen, the rad storm echoed off the valley around the village. Settlers rushed indoors to protect themselves as much as was possible in conditions like this. There was no panic, only routine for a people who experience this kind of thing more than they did full stomachs. A sigh announced Macready who resurfaced just as Hancock turned to jump the fence to the river.

“Other way,” said the merc listlessly, jutting his thumb over his shoulder to point to the place he entered the gates.

Hancock followed the gesture and eyed the woman landing from her vault over the fence. Juniper looked ever steady as she walked back to the common house as if nothing in the past thirty minutes had happened. Her hands were stuffed in her pockets and her pace was so slow it was like she didn’t even care about the impending storm. It wasn’t until she passed the lookout that the ghoul recognized the sound he was hearing wasn’t just the wind. Juniper was whistling as she passed, that old tune that played on the Diamond City radio like a cancer. Instead of sounding upbeat, the sound ghosted past them like a haunting.

“Well I roam from town to town,” Macready hummed as he backed down the stairs towards the vaultie. Instead of making contact, the merc went the opposite direction into one of the emptied houses and closed the door. The ghoul observed for a moment more before descending.

As the storm cracked around them, Juniper made her way back down the cellar she and Hancock spent the night in before, the ghoul following her silently. Once closed inside, Jun faced her follower with soft grey eyes. The pair stood in pitch black, not a stray beam of light to expose them, not even a breeze to move them closer. Juniper was shaking, Hancock could smell the wet earth that stuck to her clothes, even though he could barely see the outline of her body he felt shivers that wracked her body. Without a word he pulled her into a hug, trapping her hands between them. She was cold to the touch, her pants damp from crossing the river. Her breath was hot against his cheek as she laid her head on his shoulder. This night required a different kind of passion.

Leading her to the mattress, Hancock pulled Juniper down with him and tucked her head under his chin, petting her hair as she curled into the fetal position. There were not words to describe what she was feeling and he did not need them. He would have held her all the same with or without excuses because she needed him and he could feel it in his bones, a long emptiness that was clear in the way she held herself. The silence fell on them like a blanket and Hancock ran his calloused hands over her back, humming to her until she fell asleep.

The ghoul couldn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up he knew time had passed. There was a candle lit in the cellar and his partner was missing. Swallowing the panic that threatened to bubble out of him, Hancock swiped his hat from the floor and climbed to the surface stopping only to extinguish the weak flame as he left. Across the settlement people had already started their daily routine. There were people harvesting the crops planted out behind the commonhouse, trashcan Carla stood outside the market building with her caravan speaking to the old ghoul salesman, even Sturges was on the bridge between buildings doing repairs. Everyone around him seemed at peace, so why could he not shake the sense that something was terribly wrong?

Piper and Macready leaked from the commonhouse, laughing about some joke or another. She was leaning on his shoulder, barely containing her giggle when the merc stopped dead in his tracks. He made eye contact with the Mayor of Goodneighbor and uttered on single syllable.

“Fuck.”

Piper followed his sight and her mouth hung open. “Fuck.”

“Fuck?” Hancock would have been raising a brow if he had any. That feeling in his gut was growing tangible. “Where’s Jun?”

“I thought she was with you?” Mac ran a hand down his face, shaking his head.

“She did it again, didn’t she?” Piper cursed again, the sound foreign on her lips making both the boys look at her. “She’s gone.”

Had the world gone red? No, no. Only his vision. Hancock dropped a string of curses that would make a sailor blush before he took a deep breath and composed himself, only to start cursing all over again when he looked back at Macready. This was not happening. She had not left him behind again. God if she left him behind again, he would kill her. Juniper had went off on the most important and dangerous mission yet and she left him asleep without even a note of excuse. A goodbye letter. Because that’s what it really felt like this time, that feeling that he couldn’t shake. It felt like she was saying goodbye. All those tears last night were not for her son, he realized, growing sicker as he figured it out, but for him. For them. She didn’t say anything because what do you say when you’re leaving someone?

“Fucking fuck fucker!” He bellowed, people had begun to gather as he raged in the middle of the street. “She fucking left me here and she fucking thinks she fucking isn’t fucking coming the fuck back!”

Macready stepped forward to try to calm his friend but ducked quickly to miss the hat that Hancock threw furiously from his head. “You can’t be sure of that, man.”

“I know for a goddamned fact she thinks she’ll die in that goddamn hole.” he told them, Piper keeping her eyes on them warily. The ghoul had dropped now to a whisper, wearing himself out. “She wouldn’t have left without me otherwise. She promised.”

“Maybe she just needed some more alone time,” Mac offered, trying to stay the positive party. It was so far from his regular role that it felt like oil on his skin. He didn’t even believe himself. The two men were about to engage in the now routine argument of ‘where the hell is Juniper James’ when Sturges came up on them wearing a smile.

“If you’re looking for your girl, she’s in the garage. We just finished mounting some new plates on one of those old power armor suits.” The mechanic hooked his thumbs in his overalls and beamed at the two murderers who looked like they would come unhinged at any moment. Hancock, who was beginning to feel a different kind of rage at making a public fool of himself, stomped off to the garage to find his woman. Mac and Piper shrugged as a unit, deciding not to involve themselves further in the affairs of the hopeless lovers.

Juniper, for all her attempts in making a safe place to live out of Sanctuary, ended up making it a fort of sorts. The common house had the meeting floor for all the General’s official business, a cafeteria floor with candlelight dining overlooking the river, a smoker’s escape on the balcony, and of course a lounge on the ground floor that even included a pool table which she hauled all the way from Concord one long afternoon. The barracks housed the garage on the ground floor, where Juniper kept all the power armor suits she continued to bring home, the sleeping quarters on the second floor was not but rows of beds with locked chests at the foot of each, and the third floor was individual apartments for permanent residents like Sturges who never left the settlement. Near the bridge was a building strictly for those on guard duty, equipped with couches and plenty of water cans to keep them going all day and night. There was a similar shack for those working the crops in the middle of the settlement. All in all, Juniper had designed the place to be very utilitarian. Although, most of it could attributed to her time spent in both the military and the foster system, she didn’t take much time to make the place feel like more than a halfway home.

Sturges had been the one to build it all really, so it could even be argued that he was at fault for not arguing her on the blueprints, but no one did because no one else had the guts to tell her that she needed to lift a finger more for them. Sturges said nothing because he preferred the strict order Juniper imposed in a world so devoid of it. Hancock on the other hand, tended to comment his distaste freely and often because he was largely a fan of anarchy. Such was his attitude when he busted through the garage door, yelling at Juniper.

“What kind of stunt do you think you’re pulling?”

Juniper was squatting behind a power armor frame, her face coated in oil and paint. When she didn’t immediately answer, Hancock repeated himself. A second time, Jun said nothing until finally the ghoul was standing over her, glowering.

“Why did you off and leave me?” He demanded.

Jun raised one white brow and pushed up a pair of circular glasses with the back of her hand. “You looked cute sleeping, I figured you should get your rest where you can.”

“Why, so you could come out here to play house with Sturges?” His arms went up to fold around his chest, trying to remain angry at her was so hard he started reaching. If he could remind himself that what he was really feeling was hurt feelings he may have curbed himself, but too much build up needed to get out somehow.

“Yup. You got it.” Jun rolled her eyes and frowned, going back to work. Clearly his was not a mood that could be changed and she had only left out of kindness.

“If you want so bad to leave me then just fucking do it!” Hancock regretted the words immediately, but his stubborn chin clamped shut before he could take it back.

Jun’s reply came soft and singular. “Fine.”

“Fine!” the ghoul shouted. He stared at her for a good minute longer, watching her tighten bolts on the leg on the armor, waiting for her to argue her side, to fight for him, to do anything but just accept the fact that they had just informally ended things. When Jun didn’t even move to look at him he shouted in frustration, spun on his heel and left.

 

To say she was pissed was an understatement. The last time Juniper had been this angry was probably when she was transferred off the battlefield. She remained in her crouch, working on her armor, but her mind was running laps around the settlement. Hancock was gone, probably off yelling at every person who looked at him sideways while Jun sat and stewed at her new insult. She woke up at the break of dawn and went out to oil and load her weapons, count her ammunitions, and arm herself to the teeth for the journey ahead. That some haughty ghoul bastard had the gall to say she was entertaining other men instead set her blood boiling. Juniper was so upset that she was muttering to herself as she kicked her bolt gun across the floor.

“Godsdamn condescending,” another kick, “No good, mother fucking,” a screw driver flew across the room. “Pinche verga!”

Juniper was still cursing in her dead husband’s language when Deacon slid through the door. He narrowly dodged a hammer as it flew past his head. The crash of the tool was accented by his yelp, finally bringing attention to himself. Slinking past the hanging armors to the eye of the storm, Deacon held up his hands in surrender.

“Hey boss, no harm no foul, right?” Juniper glared at him. “I just came to see if you were ready to roll out.”

Juniper sighed, dropping the wrench she hadnt even noticed she picked up. “I suppose so.”

Deacon opened his mouth to ask, but quickly decided elsewise, instead leading them out of the garage and toward the edge of town. Jun said nothing as the ghoul silently joined them, falling into step behind Deacon. The tension between the three was nearly palpable. It took them a day's travel to reach the rendezvous where the rest of the Railroad agents were waiting and the entire journey was made in the same uncomfortable silence. Each time Deacon tried to quip his way out of discomfort an angry growl quickly soured his mood. The spy was growing more and more put out by the fact that the two deadliest people he knew were acting like toddlers on the cusp of the most important mission yet.

The trip was not long enough for Hancock, who was busying himself with loading his weapons while Juniper walked off to speak with Desdemona. He understood the jist of the mission: Jun goes in, wires the teleporter to collect the rest of them, they blow the place up. As far as it had concerned him previously, he was on point and shoot duty for anything institute. Now, however, with Jun’s ever changing attitude and strange mood the night before he had no intention of leaving her side. Watching her prepare to jet off in the institute alone for the second time was making him nauseous. Worse of all he had fought with her, told her to leave him all over again, as if it didn’t nearly kill him the first time. His knuckles when white as he balled his fists, shuffling to the edge of the crowd so he could get a breath before the heaving in his stomach escaped his mouth.

 

‘Alright,” Des said, finishing the conversation, “Ready when you are.”

Juniper gave a sharp nod and turned away from the Railroad leader. Her eyes roamed the crowd, finding the ghoul in the red coat sticking out like a sore thumb. Somewhere in the distance thunder clapped, reminding them they were on a schedule. Deacon had taken her place by Desdemona, leaving everyone occupied. Dropping her eyes, Jun keyed in her coodinates to teleport but when she looked up, one last glance in Hancock’s direction, their eyes met.

Her lungs felt sucked dry, her chest caving in on itself. Jun struggled to remember how breathing worked. Those black eyes bored into her like they were nailing her to ground she stood. Hancock crossed the distance between them, grabbed her face in his hands, and smashed his lips against hers, never once closing his eyes.

Fireworks didn’t go off in her toes, her leg didn’t pop. That electric passion that usually swept between them didn’t even spark, yet Jun melted. Every rigid edge of her softened as she accepted his tongue as the sweetest apology then returned it with her own. This time there was no fight to overpower the other, to prove one loved the other more. This was an impasse without words. This was the sorry that neither ego was ready to say. More than that, as his hands slid from her face to grace her collar, pull her coat closer, feel her body heat, this was a goodbye. Hancock didn’t want her to leave, pleading with every atom of his being that she stay, that he will do right by her, that this is what they would be if she just stayed. Equal on every level, partners at every curve. If she would stand toe to toe with him and accept him as he was, he would be here for the rest of her life. If not, if she chose Nate, if she chose Shaun, if she chose the past he would forgive her. He would forgive her and say goodbye because he understood now that she needed that peace. In the deepest of his heart he knew he wouldn’t live a day without her now but he would let that decision be hers. He would not stop her tonight.

The kiss died across her lips. It had been everything. Message delivered. Everything she needed was here in front of her if she just reached out and touched it. The tears had started sometime on their own, unannounced. The ghoul dropped his forehead against hers, resting there with his eyes now closed waiting for the inevitable parting. Jun knew, as she peeked up at him through her lashes, this one was the world. She just needed to grab him. A deep breath, through gritted teeth and she was able to step away instead.

Hancock didn’t let anything slip past his expression, just a nod as he put back on the mask of the Mayor of Goodneighbor. “Let’s kill some fascists,” he growled.

Jun slammed her palm down on her pipboy, triggering the teleporter.

The control room was packed with people as she stepped out of the landing pad. Jun recognized a few synth faced and quickly located her contact inside. She greeted him casually after saying hello to a few others, natural as possible.

“Everything is in place, when you are ready,” the man told her.

“Let’s clear the room.”

Jun unsheathed her handgun in one fluid movement, sending two rounds into each of the three guard heads. One of the scientists screamed and tried to pull up the comms at the terminal station. A female synth knocked the scientist over the head with a wrench, knocking the woman unconscious. Another synth followed suit, clocking the remaining scientist in the temple with her hammer. The ladder left a splatter trail down the wall as the man fell, dead. Juniper nodded to the others when the room was cleared and her contact moved to the terminal, activating the teleporter like it was something he could do in his sleep.

A bright flash later and a collection of familiar faces began trickling out of the landing pad. Desdemona began shouting orders, splitting the group. Tom took up his post at the terminal, telling Jun what he needed to make the big boom happen. Step one: Infiltrate. As the teams blended together, one historically dressed ghoul slid up beside the sole survivor of vault one eleven and elbowed her in the side.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Never.” she said, sliding her fingers into his hand and squeezing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who stops by!  
> on a scale of one to ten, how long do you think the new angst is going to last?
> 
> (i also have no idea. i dont go into these things with a plan, i'm sorry)
> 
> also! new art up in the #juniper james tag on my tumblr! (same username). my fiance bought me a high class drawing tablet so now i get to waste my life making art of my smol waste mom.


	17. The One When X6 Saves the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does closure always ache this badly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers, non-canon stuff too. 
> 
> songs:  
> down the line - jose gonzalez  
> final warning - skylar grey  
> comes and goes - covey  
> the devil's backbone - the civil wars  
> i want to feel alive - the lighthouse and the whaler

Z1-14 led the group through a locked door and into the old robotics facility. Jun followed closely behind him, tagging the few turrets that still stood before the others could shoot them down. Rusted halls and broken parts scattered the floor, conveyor belts and rooms stood untouched like tombstones. The Railroad agents were forced to form a line behind the General as the stairs would only fit two at a time. If Desdemona had an issue with Juniper taking command, she didn’t voice it yet. Deacon, who had somehow ended up the tail of the group whisper-shouted to the front, getting everyone else’s attention.

“This place is way more creepy than that old house in Salem.”

Hancock chuffed, angling his head so his voice carried down the hall to the spy. “You didn’t even go inside that one, how do you know?”

Desdemona shushed them at the same time Juniper held up a fist, a signal to stop. There was movement ahead of them. A number of gen one synth were patrolling the area, looking as old and broken as their surroundings. Juniper pulled her rifle from her back and took aim at the closest of the group, her gun propped up on the windowsill that separated the group from the hostiles. When the synth’s head exploded, others began scanning, heads swivelling frantically. Jun motioned for everyone to spread out and soon the rest of the robots fell down dead. Another series of stairs and Z1 assured them they were getting closer.

“So this is an old vault or what?” Deacon started again. “This place is terrifying. At least they just froze you, boss.”

Jun shot him a death glare over his shoulder as Hancock, who happened to be close enough, socked Deacon in the arm. Z1 went ahead and Desdemona and her agents followed him, waiting on the others to catch up. Deacon was still observing what looked to be a perfect condition sentry-bot while Hancock observed Juniper.

“If this is where Nick came from,” Jun couldn’t finish her sentence. There were no words to fill the rage she was feeling. How long had all of this been going on under their noses? These vaults dated back before the war, which meant they were building these things, hurting people right here at home, long before she was shipped off American soil.

A hand slid into hers, squeezing in reassurance. This was not the time to get sucked up into old demons. The government she fought for wasn’t even around anymore, it was no use. But the Institute was here, a very real threat that she could actually take care of. With a small nod, Jun went off in the direction of the others. The infiltrators slid through an access hole one by one until they were finally in a place Juniper recognized. The dig site behind the science wing looked exactly the same as the last time. Now with a mental map, Jun took the lead from Z1 and made her way to the terminal by the windows. As she found the commands she wanted, the team crowded around and reloaded.

“What are we waiting for,” Desdemona asked, sounding agitated. She stole a glance at Deacon who made a deliberate point of doing nothing.

“Do you know what a gorilla is?” Juniper’s voice was that chilling calm that those who had traveled with her recognized instantly. When no one responded, she hit a key on the terminal triggering the glass to a room across the way. Two large apes, enraged by the change to their environment, climbed down and began to attack the scientists.

One scientist managed to get away but his friend was not fast enough. The gorilla caught him by the ankle and tossed him back, screeching and pounding the ground. The man on the ground screamed, a sound quickly cut off when the second beast wholloped him across the face, his neck snapping audibly. Synth patrolman fired on the animals, trying but failing to slow them down. Hancock, who stood behind Juniper watching from the safety of the terminal room, made a noise of disgust. The gorillas were working as a team now, ripping the robot’s limbs off and tossing his body against the enclosure. From his perch on top of the wall, the other scientist tried to fire on the animals but missed terribly and only succeeded in drawing attention to himself. Baring fangs the length of a grown man’s hand, one of the apes climbed part way up the wall, grabbed the man’s foot, and pulled him to the ground. Instead of thrashing him, this one sunk those giant teeth into the man’s throat, ripping into his skin and splattering blood everywhere.

“You see,” Juniper said, folding her arms across her chest. “People used to believe mankind evolved from apes. From best I could tell, the Institute believed they could trigger this evolution again. However, the Institute is full of idiots who like to play gods, so every now and then it’s only fair their creations get the best of them.”

The doors slid open and Jun walked into the carnage. She harbored no fear and so she attracted no attention from the beasts until it was too late for them. As they played in their pile of bodies she tossed a grenade in their midst. When the shrapnel didn’t down them she cocked her rifle and fired two shots, one into each skull. The first gorilla dropped instantly and the second kept running at her for a few more steps before crashing to the ground and sliding to a stop at her feet.

“There will be no survivors because there are no innocent here.”

There were no other words said until the party reached the lobby only to find it occupied by a small army of synth of varying generations. Armed to the teeth, this was definitely a last standing defense for the underground facility. Fronting a group of coursers stood no other than Justin Ayo. Juniper snarled, cocking her rifle as she focused on his smug face. The bastard already assumed he won. Instead of giving him the pleasure, Jun addressed the synths behind him as well as her own company.

“Stand down.” To make an example, she lowered her own weapon. Hancock, still feeling uneasy as to who their true allies were, swiveled so that his back was against hers and glared down the Railroad agents. The first one to make a move would catch a shotgun blast.

“The whore of the Waste returns.” Ayo said, indignant. “Father was stupid to let you in. But he is dying and you will die here, with him. The Institute will be mine and I will make us great again.”

Jun ignored him. “Those of you who want to live, who want change, who want to escape, leave now. You have a safe place in Sanctuary. No one will hunt you.” Her eyes roamed over the black clad coursers until she found a familiar face. X6-88 stood behind Ayo, his lazer rifle holstered. “I mean you too, coursers. No more obedience. A real life.”

A series of white lights flooded the lobby as a few of the coursers escaped. Either they would be a problem later or they really did want a better life. But Jun didn’t have time to think about it, as she finished her speech Ayo screamed, firing into the Railroad agents. Gunfire mixed with the sound of energy shots, machines fell, humans bled, and synths did both. Juniper jumped into the middle of it, looking for Ayo but finding only patrolmen. She unsheathed her ripped and ground into a chest, took off a hand holding a rifle, and dug directly into one’s face. A courser nearly got the better of her but a bowie knife flew by her, landing in the man’s neck. Jun turned, already knowing who her savior was. Hancock gave her a smile as he fired into the gut of a patrolman. Another ally fell less than three feet from the ghoul, dead eyes looking up at him. In an instant he was back at Bunker Hill, wondering why these people were dying at the hands of those they wanted to save. At least this time he knew who to shoot.

As the firing died down, Desdemona stood behind the cover of an overturned bench. Deacon was sitting with a man in his lap, helping make his last moments comfortable. Three of the eight agents that entered would not be leaving this place. The lobby grew quiet with mourning. Juniper crossed the floor to speak with Desdemona but when she only made it halfway before chaos erupted. Ayo stepped out from the armory hall, a lazer rifle trained on Juniper’s heart. Hancock saw him, but not soon enough. The bastard was too far away and the ghoul had not brought a long rage weapon. The groan of an energy shot escaped the weapon as the ghoul shouted, the sounds melding together into one pained scream that echoed up the walls.

Hancock’s heart jumped from his chest to his teeth as he lunged for man who just shot lover. From his peripherals, he saw Juniper hit the ground just as Desdemona and Deacon began shouting. His mind was reeling. No no no no no no no no no. This was not it. They did not come this far for some prick with a god complex to ruin their one chance at happiness. He collided with Ayo, slamming him into the floor. For a moment Hancock lost his mind. His vision went red and one word kept him going: kill. He tore into Ayo with his bare hands, crushing the other man’s throat with one and bludgeoning him with the other. All of his pent up fears came out in his fists and he didn’t realize he was screaming until he ran out of breath. At the perfect moment, with Ayo dead and bleeding out on the pristine glass floor, the ghoul heard the only voice that mattered.

“X6, what the fuck man.” Jun gasped. Hancock’s world came back into color. Dripping blood he half limped half ran to where Juniper was on the floor beneath a body, struggling to push the other man off of her. “Christ you’re shot!”

Without the inflection of pain or any indication of the gaping hole in his shoulder, the synth leaned back on his knees and looked at Juniper, his sunglasses lost in their tussel. “Primary directive is to protect Mother.”

Juniper’s face scrunched up and she snuck a glance at the wild eyed ghoul who was crouching beside her. She leaned into him, the touch enough to reassure them both that the other was still alive. Turning her attention back to the courser, Jun shook her head.

“Hancock pass me a stimpack. X6, don’t ever call me mother again.”

As she worked this heavy duster off X6’s shoulder, the ghoul pulled a needle from his coat pocket and passed it to his lover. With gentle fingers, she braced the synth and stabbed him. Again, he made no display of pain.

“It’s ok to admit that hurts,” Jun chided, looking at the clean burns of an energy shot. If the stimpack did it’s job, the muscles would heal but this was clean through and there would be a scar.

“Pain is not to be displayed, especially in front of Father. It should be assumed the same protocol applies to Mother.”

Jun grumbled. “Stop calling me Mother. It’s just Jun.”

“As acting overseer of the Institute it is only logical you would assume the proper title. As a female that title is Mother.” X6 followed Jun with dark eyes as he adjusted his coat and reloaded his weapon.

“Well, buddy, the Institute is about to be over and I’m mother of no one and nothing.”

“As you wish, ma’am.”

Jun stood, helping the synth to his feet. “Christ. Fine. Ma’am it is.”

When the commotion finally settled, Desdemona chose to remind everyone of their objective. “The place is locked down, if we are going to get in, you need to get to the director’s terminal.”

Juniper nodded. Hancock reloaded his shotgun and slung it over his shoulder. “Ready when you are, Sunshine.”

After a quick look around the room Juniper shook her head. “I need you to stay here. I don’t think,” she took a deep breath, “I need to do this part alone. That’s my son up there and I know you were just as excited as I was to get him back. Please,” Jun couldn’t finish, she didn’t know how to.

Hancock pulled her into a hug, smearing blood over her clothes. “Just get back here in one piece.” Letting her walk away turned his stomach almost more than thinking she was dead. He knew there was still the mission to finish so there was no reason that she wouldn’t be right back yet he bubbled up with panic again.

Juniper rubbed her palms on her pants. Caked with blood and sweat, she wondered how she was going to face killing her only child. Parts of her, the deep dark ones she buried years ago, were thankful she wasn’t going to be responsible for raising this monster. The other parts, those ones that felt guilty for not saving Nate’s son sooner, just wanted to hold her son again. To tell her boy it was all going to be ok and that she would fix whatever this was. But no, this was Juniper James. Orphan, soldier, last choice, cold blooded killer, survivor. There was not a way to fix this because her son was the villain in this story. The world was not a fairy tale before the bombs dropped and nothing had changed that. As the elevator opened and she climbed the stairs, she took one more steadying breath.

“I did not expect to see you again.”

 

“And what did you expect?” Juniper crossed the floor, coming to a stop in front of the bed Father was tucked into.

His face was much more pale than the last time she saw him and although she knew he was dying she didn’t think it was going to happen this fast. At least, not naturally. The balcony had been sealed off as part of the lock down, the buzzing of the monitors attached to his bedside were blaring as they had lost power. Everything was so loud in this small little room that each second Juniper stood there she felt like she was being crushed. Instead of losing herself to the guilt all over again, Jun steeled herself and bit down on the inside of her cheek. The sharp metallic taste of her own blood fueled her to take another step forward, stopping to crouch in front of her dying son.

“A cold exit from a cold killer.” Father’s lip curled up in disgust. “You’ve doomed them all, the future of the human race is lost because you chose to believe the misgivings of the aboveground miscreants.”

Juniper folded her arms across her chest, unclenching her teeth long enough to answer. “This was not the human race, Shaun. You can’t play god and excuse yourself by saying it was for the greater good. The human race is still up there, surviving. You left them to die.” She waived her arms around the room, her brows knitting together beneath stray hair and dried blood. “All this..this brilliance of yours, squandered for your own perverse use.”

The beeping of the monitors was dying into monotony, finally allowing Juniper some of her mental faculties back. Her palms were sweating, her heart was tense, and on a chain around her neck the old wedding ring Nate gave her felt like a noose. Father regarded her like a common criminal and he was not entirely wrong. The Wasteland was her home and she found it fit her like a glove because of how easily she could give into the cold, murderous tendencies she had held back her whole life. The military had not satisfied her bloodlust and this anarchy was the perfect place for her to blossom. In that moment she realized something; although she had not raised him, her son was just like her.

“I can’t even look at you, Mother.” he spit the title like a curse, “My life’s work thrown away because you are too soft of heart.”

“Oh my son, my boy.” Juniper reached forward and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of her sleeve, leaving a small bloodstain. “You may have got your father’s brains but you have my dead heart. If I could do it all again, I would not change a thing. The Wastes were made for people like me by people like me. Killers, Shaun. Murderers. You and I are the same, if not on different sides of the spectrum.”

Father turned away from her touch, closing his eyes. In a voice barely over a whisper he said, “I should have left you to rot in that vault.”

“Yes, you should have.” Juniper stood and went to the terminal across the room. “Will you tell me the log in?” Jun expected no cooperation from him, as it wasn’t fair to. But to her surprise her son, not the estranged Father of the Institute but Shaun, childlike hurt in his old eyes, spoke to her.

“12/28/76.”

Juniper had to turn around completely to look him in the eyes. “Your parent’s wedding day?”

“When Kellogg took me from the vault, he also took the personal belongings of the vault residents. In my father’s things was a letter and a locket. Your anniversary gift.” Shaun gestured to the locked drawer beneath the terminal. “I was going to give it to you later, but we don’t have time now.”

Inside the drawer was a small box on top of several file folders. With shaking hands, Jun pulled it out and walked over to Father’s bed. Kneeling beside him she opened it as he watched. There was a locket and a letter, like he said. A small golden heart on a gold chain. Tears sprang up in Jun’s eyes as she clicked open the locket. Inside the locket were two photos. One of a wide eyed infant, his hands reaching for the camera and the other of a dark man with a lopsided grin and a scar over his eyebrow. Her Nathan, as she remembered him on his last days. Her family that she hadn’t wanted. A pain struck in her chest. She had never been thankful enough for them.

“Don’t cry mother,” the soft voice of an old man accompanied the hand closing over hers. “You’re right, you know. I wasn’t nearly angry enough about losing my family because i didn’t know them. I wish I could understand the hatred that landed us here.” Shaun took a pause, his breathing becoming labored. “I wish I realized that the only logical thing for you to do would be avenge this man and his son.”

“I would have loved you,” Juniper didn’t realize how hard she was crying until her words came out on a hiccup. “I would have.”

The last part was more to convince herself than him. But it fell on deaf ears. Father stopped breathing, his eyes closed and his hand fell from hers. Without his life support he had nothing keeping him alive. Jun took another minute to gather herself and stood, latching the locket around her son’s neck. She would send her son to hell and with him the rest of her past life. The letter was not for her to read, not anymore. Juniper James just witnessed her son’s last breath and felt no guilt. She did not deserve to read those words of love and hope. At least, she didn’t think so. Instead she went back to the terminal and typed in her anniversary date, ignoring what it meant that he used it as his best kept password.

With the override entered, Jun took the elevator back down to the lobby to meet up with her team. As it descended, she fought back the bile that threatened to overcome her. There was no looking back now. The room spun as she tried to walk to where Hancock was arguing with Desdemona, the Railroad agents up in arms with their guns directed at X6.

“One more step and I fill you with holes!” Hancock had the barrel of his gun in Desdemona’s gut. Not to be outdone, she had a lazer rifle jammed into his chest.

“I will not let this courser continue to steal lives!”

Deacon was standing in the middle of them, trying and failing to ease the tempers. X6 stood behind the ghoul, his arms folded over his chest, at ease. It was not every day you watched a man look at death with boredom. Juniper coughed, getting the attention of everyone in the room. Hancock was the first to call her by name, but X6 crossed the floor to support her. The closeness of the synth was so foreign that the woman flinched away before allowing him to hold her up by the elbow.

“What happened?” Hancock all but forgot the gun trained on him as he jogged towards Juniper. “Everything’s open but you don’t look so hot, Sunshine.”

Juniper forced out a smile and straightened. There was no physical reason for her to lean on X6, but her mental fatigue was growing by the minute. All they needed now was to attach the bomb to the reactor. One last thing and they could go back to their lives, at least, some of them.

“He’s dead.” her voice was only loud enough the ghoul and the synth holding her could hear. “The cancer.”

There was nothing else to say so she didn’t try. Hancock understood that it meant she didn’t have to kill her own son and everything else was a story for a later time. Instead, he offered her a palm full of bufftats from his own private stash, something he figured this mission might need. Jun threw her head back as she swallowed and lead forward, not asking or expecting anyone to question her. Desdemona and her team followed and they went through another set of tunnels before reaching the open area that held the reactor. The room was silent as death, which made Jun hesitate before crossing the threshold.

“Where are the guards?” she pulled up her rifle and tried to scan the room with her scope.

X6 was the one to respond. “Ayo did not assume you would make it this far. We were all pulled from our posts to meet you, ma’am.”

Jun let that set in. That arrogant asshole. If he had somehow gained control of the Institute, real hell would have been set loose on the Commonwealth. Not to be outdone by her paranoid companions, Jun kept her rifle up as she made her way to the stairs that led to the containment unit. The reactor she had helped complete stood three levels off the floor in a reinforced containment sphere. To get access to the reactor, she would need to enter the passcode and attach to bomb directly to the core, which was contained due to its radioactive properties. Because she had not planned on leaving this mission, Juniper did not pack any protective gear to fight the radiation.

“Sunshine, give me the code.” Hancock regarded her. There were tearstreaks in the dried blood on her face. “There’s enough radiation coming off that thing to fry you up just like me and we just can’t have that.”

The ghoul was right and everyone in the room knew it. The interesting bit was that Desdemona was willing and ready to sacrifice her best agent to get the job done. It shouldn’t have been a surprise but even Deacon took a step to distance himself from the Railroad team. X6 remained silent, his weapon now drawn to match Juniper’s. The weight of the bomb Tom had given her pulled at her coat. This was it. The end of the Institute was her responsibility. The deaths of each of these scientists, these civilians, their children asleep in their beds; that was her responsibility. This bomb could not be passed on to anyone. Not to keep the glory of taking out the biggest threat to the Commonwealth but to keep this burden from anyone else’s nightmare.

Juniper looked at the faces around her. Desdemona would take this as a prize and run with it. Deacon did not deserve any more death on his ledger. X6 could not be asked to blow up his birthplace. And Hancock, her dear fresh start. His life had been a series of world changing choices that had always led him to pain. So no, Juniper could not pawn this off on anyone else, no matter what the consequences were to her own safety. She didn’t give Hancock the bomb and brushed past him, or tried to. The ghoul caught her arm, his black eyes round with real, tangible fear. The expression on his face stopped her faster than the hand on her arm, as light as a feather.

“Sunshine,” he dropped his hand from her arm. “Please.”

The world slowed down until the only people in the room where the ghoul and his lover. The lights dimmed, the sound cut out, the two were connected by the lingering electricity of their touch. In this frozen moment, Juniper had another revelation. To move forward she needed to trust someone. This man, with his scarred skin and his cocky smile and his comical red coat, had been trying his best to remind her that he can be trusted. Each time she didn’t invest in that trust she hurt him. Just this morning they clashed over the stupidest thing because that broken cycle of trust was hanging over them like shackles. In her head, Juniper knew this was a moment when that cycle could be broken. If she could let go, relent just enough to accept his shoulder, that infuriating series of letting down the one person who loved her the most could come to an end.

Their eyes met as the world returned to its course. Juniper’s heart was beating in her throat and her hands were shaking but she managed. Pulling the bomb from her coat she placed it in the ghouls open palm, curling away like the touch burned her. This was it. Without saying anything, Hancock climbed the remaining stairs and opened the security door. The radiation leaking out was felt by the whole room. In reality, the whole process took the ghoul less than ten minutes but Juniper watched as if years of her life were peeling away. She was not religious nor had she been before the bombs, but when the ghoul stepped back out of the containment room she started praying to anyone that would listen that this decision would not hurt him in the long run.

Hancock returned to the hall where the group was waiting for him, making good use of a still functioning radiation cleanser. Juniper hustled him in with her, his skin hot to the touch. The mist settled over them, cooling and moist. There wasn’t enough time to say all the thank yous Jun wanted to unload on the ghoul, nor was there enough privacy. She found it sufficient to tangle her fingers in his and plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Tom, get us out of here.” Desdemona spoke into her collar and folded her arms over her chest.

White light filled the room and in the blink of an eye and the turn of each stomach, the infiltrators found themselves back in their original entry room. While the others had been finishing off the guards and setting the bomb, Tom had managed to get each and every willing synth to safety by escorting them to different designated areas where other agents were moving them to safehouses. Only the tinkerer didn’t seem excited as his friends phased into view.

“Everyone’s out but you, boss.” he said to Desdemona when she approached him. “But there is something,” Tom didn’t get to finish his statement because as soon as Juniper appeared in the hall and small voice filled the room and a little boy with red hair ran to her.

“Mother! Mother, what’s happening?” He wrapped his arms around the white haired woman’s legs in a bone crushing hug, burying his face in her hips.

The young synth that Shaun had created to impersonate him looked small and frail next to the lingering soldiers. Nothing about him had changed, not the freckles or those big sad eyes or even the shirt he wore. His voice sounded just as frightened as it had when Juniper walked in on him, only this time he wasn’t calling for father. Her stomach did another flip flop and she dropped Hancock’s hand. Behind them, Deacon whistled real low. Everyone in the room was aware the little boy was a synth yet no one dared question how. Not when Juniper was still standing in shock. She could feel the kid shaking so she forced herself to postpone her meltdown. She could fume over Father’s last dirty trick when the child was sated. Dropping to a crouch, she wrapped young Shaun into a hug.

“We’re going home, kiddo.” Juniper said into his hair. “Above ground.”

Shaun began crying to accompany his shivers. “But I’m scared,” he whined.

Jun pulled him back by the shoulders. “What is it you’re scared of?”

The little boy threw a wide eyed glance beside them, to the ghoul who stood with his mouth hanging open, struggling to find something to do with his hands. Hancock started to smile but embarrassment got the better of him. Of course the kid would get scared of a face like this, what did he expect. To make things easier, the ghoul decided to wait in the teleporter room. Before he could get a step away Jun grabbed his hand again and pulled him into a crouch beside her.

“Shaun, I’ll tell you a secret; I’m scared too.” She ran her fingers through hair that had once matched her own. “But when I get scared, I remember I’m not alone. You’re not alone either, ok?”

Jun held up the hand that was wrapped in the ghoul’s, showing Shaun what she meant. With her other hand she held the small boy’s hand. Shaun gave another tentative glance at the ghoul before nodding, accepting his mother at her words. If she was not afraid of the man in red then he wouldn’t be either. Hancock offered him a closed lip smile, trying to look as natural as possible. The kid looked up at him with big round eyes but didn’t scream, so they came to an impasse. With both boys in her grip, she looked up at Tom at the controls.

“Let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this isn't as well written as it could be. for whatever reason i just could not get into it this week but i needed to get all these ideas out. better things are coming now that we're more or less done with main plot stuff. we'll be getting back into original events and things. blah blah. 
> 
> make sure to go check out tales from the wastes, more stuff will be showing up there now. and as always narschlob.tumblr.com/tagged/juniper-james for art of smol waste mom. 
> 
> thanks so much for giving me the time of day, i promise we'll get back to being interesting and not reusing boring tropes. <3


	18. The One With McDonough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for every step forward, there are five steps back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs:  
> Porch Light - Aoife O'Donovan  
> Suitcase - Emeli Sande  
> Make it Holy - The Staves

Blue light flashed across the horizon, cracking to announce it’s arrival and departure. High up on a deteriorating skyscraper a motely crew of rebels materialized from thin air. The first to regain her composure was unsurprisingly the only one well versed in teleportaion travel. Juniper steadied herself and looked back at her companions, whose numbers had somehow dwindled since the first skin splitting flash. The child gripped her hand like a vice and she could feel his shaking. Kneeling beside him, she ruffled his hair and gave him the best “this is fine” smile she could muster. 

 

“I’ve never see the surface, Mother.” the boy said, his brown eyes as big as saucers.

 

Jun squeezed his hand and nodded to the ghoul was looked like he was about to vomit beside them. “I need you to stay here with Hancock for a moment, ok? He’ll keep you safer than even I can.” 

 

The boy stole another glance at the man in the red coat and had to swallow down his plea to keep holding his mother's hand. Seeing his fear, Hancock gave him a closed lip grin and held out his hand. The scarring made the child hesitate but when the ghoul held up a finger and reached into his coat, he reappeared with a snack cake which he gave to Shaun.

 

“I won’t bite if you don’t,” he told the kid. Shaun cracked a smile and took the cake. 

 

“Be right back,” Jun told Hancock as she straightened. He reached out and took her hand again, squeezing once so she would make eye contact. He gave her a short nod and a sad smile before she turned away. 

 

Desdemona was standing alone at the edge of the balcony. As Jun crossed the room she recognized the building as the same place she had retrieved the very generator they were going to blow up. Irony was a cruel mistress. When she approached, Des handed her a remote detonator. It was heavy, not just physically. This was what they had spent the past year working towards and before Jun so many decades. All the killings and the struggles led up to this. The destruction of the Brotherhood, Glory’s death, Shaun’s; it was all leading to this moment. So why did Jun feel like it was the wrong choice? Sure, there would be no more enslaved synths and no more escapees running for their lives but destroying the Institute meant no more synths being created, no more origins to return to, no history to preserve. As someone whose entire world blew up over her, not being able to return to the before was a very real fear for Jun. 

 

“We’ve saved them all, we won.” Desdemona broke Jun from her reverie with a clap on the back. Jun didn’t return the sentiment. 

 

“Did we?” she glanced across the skyline. “Or did we just destroy humanity’s best chance at moving forward?”

 

Desdemona scowled, that part of her personality that Juniper hated coming to the surface. While her intentions had always been good, the Railroad head had a tendency to see only her version of things and to rebuke any question of her authority. She hadn’t risen to the extent of say, Maxon or Father, but she was not a saint either. Her dubious morals worked for Juniper before the missions had become personal, but she quickly saw where the spymaster leaned on manipulation to achieve her goals. As Des spoke, Jun felt the slime of her words down her arms. 

 

“We have done the Commonwealth and who knows else a great service. They won’t thank us, but we know. I know.” When she smiled at Jun, it didn’t reassure her like it should have. “These synths will know.” 

 

Juniper’s lip curled in disgust. “Just remember Desdemona, all of this,” Jun held up the detonator, “Would not have been possible if I didn’t agree with you.”

 

The other woman narrowed her eyes. “Is that a threat?”

 

“I destroyed two of the largest powers in the Commonwealth in the same week. I command the third. I survived all the atom bombs. I’m two hundred and eighty-five years old. I woke up and killed everyone who stood in the way of me and my goal. I killed my own son because he was toxic for these people. If for one ounce of a second I think you’re getting out of hand, I will not hesitate to bring down my hand.”

 

Jun didn’t try to scare her, didn’t raise or lower her voice. She said it plainly because that’s what it was, plain truth. Desdemona glared a hole into her, but the survivor didn’t waiver only nodded. They had reached an impasse and that was fine, as long as Jun had been understood she could move on. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at Hancock, who was laughing with the synth child. If she had ever wanted a family, it would look something like that. They seemed so comfortable in the midst of all the chaos, a rock in the raging river. Feeling her eyes on him, the ghoul glanced up. His grin was tight but in it she saw real happiness. Her heart clenched until she couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t about revenge anymore. This had to be done to keep him safe. To keep their future safe. For Piper, who still had nightmares and Nat who didn’t need to have the same ones. For Nick to stop looking over his shoulder. For Curie, who deserved to follow her dreams. For Danse and those like him who didn’t have a chance to. 

 

Somehow Juniper had gained the one thing she had always wanted before the bombs: command. People now looked up to her for answers and protection. People answered to her. She had just made a show of reminding Desdemona that she was in control of most of the Waste. If they weren’t in her army they were pledged to her by a sense of debt, by her constant sacrificing and rescuing. Granted, now that she had all the power she wanted none of it. It was far too much to handle, everyone’s eyes on you, waiting for you to give them the answers that you didn’t even know. Jun realized now why she would have made a terrible sargent. It wasn’t because she was a woman but because she could never prove to her superiors that she would keep a level head. Out here, where the consequences were mostly how fast or how painful you died, it was easier to make the tough calls because if something went wrong here, there was no corporal punishment. There was no higher standard. And even with that advantage, her choices were still keeping her up at night. This one, she hoped, would not. But that’s the thing about hope; it tends to be baseless. 

 

At first, nothing happened when she pressed the button. Suddenly, like an echo, a wave of pressure swept across the Commonwealth. A mushroom cloud sprouted in the air, spreading dust and debris across the horizon. Building shook as all around the remains of Boston decaying building finally collapsed as the ground caved in beneath them. Whispers and cheers erupted on the balcony. The Institute was no more. The Commonwealth was free. The synths were saved. The corruption was gone. All things to cheer for, but Juniper didn’t join in. It didn’t seem right. 

 

When she turned her back on the explosion her ghoul was there, wrapping her in his arms. His scent, his touch, an instant comfort. Yes, Jun reminded herself, this was worth it. He was worth it. For a few moments they stayed there, wrapped up in a bubble away from the rest of the world. A small hand tugged on Jun’s sleeve and the two parted only to come back together around the little red-headed boy. 

 

For Hancock, things were looking up. 

 

Juniper and company did not stay to celebrate the explosion, instead taking the chance to get a headstart on their journey home while the sun was still up. If they booked it, they would be able to make Diamond City by nightfall, which was imperative due to their new young companion. Little Shaun was enjoying himself for the most part, pointing out buildings, road signs, broken down cars, and weeds that grew out of the sidewalk. He questioned things endlessly, what’s the name for this thing, why does that glow, is this a dog, is that a dog, is that one a dog? Jun scoffed, realizing that roadtrips with children were the same even at the end of the world. At one point, Shaun stumbled too far from them and came running back with tears and a mole rat on his tail. Hancock dispatched the pest with one swipe from his bowie knife and instantly became Shaun’s new hero. The two became inseparable after, the ghoul enjoying the attention and answering each question that came up as honestly and factually as he could.

 

The trio reached the inner city, just around the bend from Goodneighbor and Shaun began to complain that he couldn’t walk another step. Jun mentally prepared herself to make a stop for the night, casing their surroundings and recalling the supermutants that hiked the downed highway near them. She was sweeping the area when her circulation took her back to her partner, carrying the little boy on his shoulders, the child wearing his tricorn. Her heart fell out of her chest. 

 

“I can see everything from up here,” Shaun shouted, then whispered remembering Hancock’s quick lesson on sneaking about. “I can see everything, mom.”

 

Jun looked up at the boy, then to the ghoul. “That’s nice kid, real nice. Make sure to tell Han thanks.” The ghoul tipped his head, caught off guard by the shortening of his name. It wasn’t something Jun had ever slipped outside of the bedroom. When their eyes met she gave him a timid smile that didn’t touch her eyes. Before he could ask why, she turned back to the task at hand and pushed onward. 

 

Three more hours passed by much the same. Shaun questioned. Hancock laughed. Jun silently led them around raider camps and avoided feral packs. Once or twice she would shout a ‘wait there’ and run off, only to return splattered in blood with a real smile pulling her cheeks up. Her lover would distract the boy while she wiped her face clean with a sleeve, her smile disappearing with the gore. The sun was finally setting, setting the sky in an orange glow, something the child remarked on endlessly. He wasn’t sure if the sun would come back, would it be gone long, was it the same sun each time? Hancock asked Shaun why no one taught him this before and he simply said the Institue didn’t need the sun. Jun’s scoff echoed back to them. 

 

When they reached the towering gates of Diamond City they were greeting with panic. A new set of security guards were at the gate, shouting and blocking the elevators. One of them spotted Jun and shouted to the others, sending two running deeper into the city. Jun exchanged a weary glance with her ghoul before approaching the commotion. 

 

“Where’s Danny?” She asked the guard who had emerged from the desk and ran over to her. “What’s going on?”

 

“Oh man, we’ve been trying to get you for hours General!” He took off his helmet and ran a hand through sweat drenched hair. “You have to hurry, follow me.” 

 

With another glance back at her boys, Jun followed. The guard led her to a crowd in front of the little church. The others she had spotted running off were waiting in the crowd, trying to clear people out. Jun pushed through the circle of people shouting unintelligibly. Laying on the ground, his head in the reverend’s lap, was Danny Sullivan. Blood was trickling out of his mouth, his face was pale, and one of his arms was laying across his stomach in the wrong direction. 

 

“What happened?” Jun asserted, growing angry as she knelt down in front of Danny, running her hand under his chin. “Danny, can you hear me?”

 

The young man groaned, coughed up more blood, and met her eyes. “The Mayor, Jun.” 

 

Juniper growled, her face contorting in a snarl. Mcdonough. Not willing to waste time, Jun fell to her knees and dug through her thigh pack for a stimpack. She handed one to the reverend and kept another, grabbing Danny’s thigh to keep him still as she stabbed him, directing the reverend to follow. Hancock had finally managed to push through the crowd as well after convincing Shaun to wait with Nat at Publik. When he saw Danny he swore, making a few more people step back in fear. Jun ran her hand across Danny’s cheek, shushing him. 

 

“You get better kid, I know what to do.” To the reverend and the hovering guards she instructed, “Get him laid down somewhere, when he stops coughing up blood you’ll need to rebreak his arm. Where the fuck is Doc Sun?”

 

“He’s out trading this week,” someone behind her offered. Jun cursed. 

 

“Ok, stim him each hour and give him some whiskey to numb the pain.” Jun reached into her pack again and handed the nearest guard all the supplies he would need before nodding and breaking out of the crowd. At the edge of the milling people, Nat stood with Shaun, the children holding hands. 

 

“Piper’s up there with him,” Nat said, “She has been since Danny got tossed off window.” Nat said this all matter of fact, no concern in her voice. The only hint of fear she displayed was how fiercely she stared down the General. 

 

Jun reached over to ruffle her hair. “You two go grab something sweet from my place and we’ll meet back with you after this is taken care of, kay?” Nat nodded and pulled Shaun along. The boy hadn’t taken his eye off Piper’s little sister the entire time, a little crush giving him all the trust he needed to follow the other around the city. Another piece of Jun’s heart broke as she watched the two of them run off with her house key. Hancock watched her straighten, still not sure what was happening but not liking any of it but still Jun said nothing to him until they had climbed the stairs and were rising on the lift that led to the Mayor’s office. 

 

“Hancock.”

 

She didn’t get it out, Piper’s shouting cutting her off as they hit the top. The doors barring the office were closed and the reporter was kicking and screaming at the people on the other side. Geneva wasn’t at her desk, papers were thrown across the floor, and file cabinets were pushed on their sides. Taking in the scene, Jun didn’t stop to question Piper and knelt below the desk looking for the emergency lock the secretary had once used against her. Hancock, however, crossed the office and put a hand on Piper’s shoulder, pulling her away. The young girl tensed at his touch, then turned on him with bloodshot eyes, dried tears on her cheeks. 

 

“I was right! I was right! No one wanted to hear me but I was right, that’s bastard is a synth and he killed Danny!”

 

Jun came to stand beside them then, shooing them away from the door as she heaved a sigh. “Danny’s going to be ok, I think. You did good Pipes,” Jun put a hand on the knob for the door. “If you wanted to sit this one out it might be fore the best. Hancock regarded his partner, that unfinished conversation on the lift lingering with the words Piper had been shouting. Mcdonough is a synth. Had Jun known? Is that why she was handling this like casual campfire conversation, not a mindblowing disaster? Something stirred in his chest, something unpleasant. 

 

The reporter pulled her pipe pistol and nodded to the elder woman. “No, I’m going in with you. I want to look him in the face and hear him say it, say I was right.”

 

Juniper pushed open the doors, no weapon drawn with a frown on her face. Mcdonough was holding Geneva by the collar, a pistol to her head. He started mouthing off threats as the trio entered, getting louder when Jun stepped too close. Piper began yelling back at him, spewing insults and pulling her gun on him in a draw. Geneva was crying, adding to the noise of the shouts from the settlers below that floated up into the window. The little office was loud with aggression, one man baring his teeth against people who trusted him. Hancock had pulled the shotgun from the sling on his back but had yet to raise it, both wanting to see how this played out and not wanting to see any of it. 

 

“Shhh,” Jun began quiety, taking another step forward. “Everyone be quiet now. Piper, stop yelling. Geneva, shut the fuck up. Let her go, now.”

 

“Or what?” he spat, “You’ll punish me? Recall me and decommission me?” McDonough waved his gun, pointing it at Jun as he spoke, causing the ghoul to tense and raise his own weapon. Indecision wouldn’t make him lose this person too. 

 

Fall wind rustled the various long coats, bringing with it a silence that unsettled the synth with the hostage. Jun only crossed her arms over her chest, a bored look on her face. “You going to shoot me big man? You’d have already done it if you had the balls.” Another step. “You feel emasculated that ol’ Father wanted to reset you? Well, let me tell you this you fat bastard: Father is dead. The Institute is a giant goddamn crater. There is no more Justin Ayo. There is only me and I am done with you.”

 

The synth laughed. Hancock watched as the thing wearing his brother’s skin pointed a gun at his lover and red boiled up behind his eyes. “You point that thing at her again and I’m going to splatter the back of your head on that wall.”

 

“Oh, brother.” the synth latched onto the curl of the ghouls lip, taking the hint of emotion and toying with it. “Oh dear brother, you could never hurt me. Wasn’t that the whole reason you left? Too scared to say no to me, to the only family you had left. Don’t tell me that cunt gave you liquid courage, one vaultie and suddenly you’re all man?”

 

“Funny,” Hancock said, not laughing. “Brother.” The word came out as a hiss. 

 

A few things happened all at once and when Piper tried to recount it, both for herself and for her paper, she couldn’t quite catch the right words to describe it all. Mcdonough released Geneva so he could close the last two steps between he and Jun and take her instead. Hancock Snarled, a sound so deep the reporter would say it shook the walls as the ghoul froze, his finger on the trigger. Geneva ran into Piper’s arms, who gently sent her out the door and in that moment she took her eyes off the synth all hell broke loose. Juniper, the picture of calm, drew a knife from her sleeve and turned on the synth, slitting his throat from ear to ear, the blood raining down on her face and shoulders. McDonough gurgled inhumanly, his synthetic parts failing just like a human as his knees buckled and he fell to the floor. Piper screamed once, covering her hand with her mouth as she regained composure. Hancock shot the reporter a look of grief as she left the room to fetch the guards and vomit over the lift railing. His attention stayed on Jun, however, as she pushed her hair over her forehead, smearing blood over her brows. She sighed as she sidestepped the gore she created, carefully not meeting the eyes of her partner. 

 

“How long?” Hancock said, if there was steel in his voice Jun decided she deserved it. “How long, Jun?”

 

The woman said nothing, casting her eyes out on the city below them. 

 

“Juniper.” this time, her name was bittersweet falling from his tongue. It wasn't a gospel or a prayer, it was flat, it was painful. 

 

Jun kept her eyes averted to the city below. “Before Bunker Hill. Before the letters. I found out upon breaking into the Institute files.” She said. Her thoughts kept going, saying what she didn't want to say out loud. Excused that would only wound him more. That she was waiting for the right moment, that things hadn't stopped spinning since that day she teleported in, that each turn was more fighting and death and that she wanted to preserve his feelings, that she didn't want to hurt him. It was all true, granted, but not a one of them would close the gap she had created by withholding the truth. 

 

Hancock looked into the pool of blood that was slowly edging toward his boots. “how long did I resent him for something else's crimes? If I had stayed, would I have ever even noticed?” 

 

Finally looking at him, taking in the slump of his shoulders, the circled under his eyes, that fist the clenched and released, clenched and released; Jun sighed deep and forlorn. Without looking back at her, though he could feel her cool gaze heavy as the rest of the weight on his shoulders, the ghoul shook his head and turned for the door. “I need some time alone.” 

 

“Ok,” Jun conceded as she watched him disappear into the elevator. 

 

The last of the sun disappeared behind the wall as Jun waiting for the lift to drop. A sullen fog wrapped around Diamond City almost as if nature itself was trying to hug away the devastation of the last forty eight hours. Most of the shops had closed in alarm when Danny fell from the sky and hadn't reopened before nightfall. The children that normally ran based in circled had been tucked safely into their homes. The walk was silent as even the guards didn't have enough energy for a smart remark as the General made her way home. Takahashi offered her a bowl so she accepted, sitting alone at the bar, nursing a beer until there was nothing but empty dishes in front of her. Nothing else to procrastinate. Her door swung open noiselessly, but laughter spilled out into the night. Children sat cross legged on her floor playing board games and forgetting the cruelty of the world. For just a moment Jun was tempted to smile, a real earnest smile full of hope and children's futures but when Shaun looked up, eyes as brown as Nate's once were, her brain stopped her heart. 

 

The little boy on her floor was synthetic, he would never age, here look older than he did today. She could parent this child who mimicked Nate's son for the rest of her life and never have to deal with pissy teenage years or worry about the first person he fell in love with. But that posed the question, did his mind age? In twenty years would he have the brain of a thirty year old in the body on a ten year old? This was not a life she would wish on anyone, especially not a child. Now that the Institute was decommissioned there was no one to ask, no one to give her these answers or to reset this unaging child because that was the bare bones of it, this child wasn’t really her son it was just a cruel leftover of a life she never got to live. Shaun, the real one, probably meant well in sending her off with this replica of himself but it only pained her to look into this child’s face and not know how he grew or if he ever would. Another round of laughter from the kids shook her from her reverie, allowed her to put those thoughts away for later. Right now, she would take care of the youth playing blast radius as if the terror of the outside world was something that would wear off at the end of the day. 

 

“Nat, if you guys are hungry there’s plenty of snacks in the pantry. Would you like a nuka cola?” 

 

The little girl grinned up at her, pausing to move her game piece before responding. “No thanks Miss Jun, is everything ok now?”

 

Jun softened. “Piper will be home tonight, if you wanted to go back Nat, I can walk you home or you can sleep over.”

 

“Can we play a little longer?” Shaun asked, looking at Nat for an answer and not Jun. the little girl grinned at him in return. 

 

“Sure! When we finish this game we can go to my place, if that’s ok with you Miss Jun?”

 

“Whatever floats your boat, kids. I’m going upstairs to change, yell for me if you need something.”

 

As the children turned back to their game Jun trudged around the curve of her home, narrowly dodging a fallen magazine rack and catching her shoulder on the corner by the stairs. A groan escaped her lips as the little up-turned bulbs filled with glowing water swung with her movement. The painting she stole from one of the museums upstate of some forefather on a horse hung crooked, but hit her feelings regardless; she brought the damn thing home as a joke because it reminded her of her ghoul in his frock coat. Although she hadn’t built this place with him in mind, his touch lingered everywhere. There were shotgun shells on the floor by her bed, empty cannisters of jet on her bedside table. Downstairs, if she pulled open the pantry drawer there would be a stack of mentats boxes and sewing kit which saw to all the repairs in Hancock’s outfit after a particularly bad fight. When she opened her dresser, his old tshirt and jeans nestled between her army fatigues, still smelling of him. That he was everywhere even when he wasn’t comforted her. 

 

Jun slid into a pair of her own old jeans and pulled a white shirt over her chest after vigerously scrubbing her arms and face until the water in the washbasin ran red. Sighing, she collected the water bucket and pulled a half empty bottle of whiskey from under her bed then climbed the next level so she could reach the balcony hatch and empty the dirty water. The cool night air frosted her damp hair and pulled her arms around her torso. She noticed him when she first popped her head out the hatch, but chose to continue her task before confronting him. The ghoul was smoking, sitting in the little arm chair on her roof with only the embers of his cigarette to light his face. His expression was hard to read in the yellow light, but his silence was clear. Jun slid down to sit beside him on the ground, pulling her legs into a pretzel beneath her. He offered her a drag from his cigarette and she accepted, blowing the smoke away from her before giving it back and offering up a sip of whiskey which he obliged. She took a deep breath, sighing it out to say something but Hancock spoke first. 

 

“Do you trust me, Juniper?” 

 

It was a loaded question and she took her time to answer, pulling his hand down to drag from the cig while he still held it, an intimate act in it’s own way. “Yes. I know you’re always going to do the right thing, I know you’re always going to help when someone asks, I know I can always ask. It’s not because I don’t trust you, Han.”

 

The ghoul takes another shot of whiskey and hands her the bottle back. A few minutes more pass on in silence. Jun wondered absently where he went to cool off and if it helped him enough. What she wanted was to grab his hand and tell him everything would be ok and if it wasn’t she would make it ok but she can’t lie to him, not again, so instead she sat out the silence. Hancock kept his eyes on the roofs of the city beneath them, not daring to look at her because his heart would crumble the second he stopped on her face. This wasn’t how he thought this night would go when he daydreamed it on the walk over, but that wasn’t even a surprise anymore. So much pain followed them wherever they went so it was only consequence that one win would bring five more losses. Taking another long drag from his cigarette, the ghoul flicked the butt off the roof and spoke. 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I thought,” she sighed heavy again. “I thought if I kept it secret I could save you from the hurt. That someone else would take him out first and then you would never need to find out.” she looked at him then, begging him to meet her eyes just once so she could tell what he was thinking because she hadn’t felt so raw in quite a long time. 

 

Hancock remained silent, pensive. 

 

“So, are we splitting up again?” she asks, almost a whisper. The silence, biting at her nerve endings, making her hands shake, spreads out over the city. It snakes its way into her bloodstream, unsettling her down to her core. It was the kind of silence that hosts the dead, letting all her ghosts run free inside her head. Little voices nagged at her, pulling her attention and gnawing on her resolve. ‘You’ll lose this one too,’ they said. ‘Cold dead heart,’ ‘kills everyone she loves.’ Another cigarette, inhaled until it’s nearly gone on the first drag, still doesn’t settle the gooseflesh that rises on her arms. 

 

His voice breaks the silence like a single gunshot, words so close to those she had heard from her husband. “I’m not giving up on you, Jun.”

 

“But,” she added. 

 

“But these secrets hurt.” he took a single, shaking breath and met her eyes, his gaze hard as glass. “They hurt so goddamn much.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she looks away, not really sure how to prove it to him. 

 

Hancock deflates, he watched her too long, could see the toll it’s taking on her just to speak plainly about this. “I know.” he drops his hand, brushes her fingers gently when he trades the whiskey bottle back to her. 

 

“I can’t keep him,” Jun says to the cloud of smoke she blows out. “I can’t raise a kid that’s pretending to be the one I killed.”

 

“So?” Hancock sours, if only because he wanted more. All those dreams for a happy little family that he secretly still wanted even after he found out about the Institute crumbling in front of them. It wasn’t his choice, he knew, but it hurt to let go of Jun’s kid, this visage of him. “Will you give him to the Railroad?”

 

“Not a chance in hell I let Desdemona have that child.” Jun snarled.

 

“Where then?” 

 

Juniper looked sullen, retelling the things she had been thinking about all day. “He’s never going to grow up, get older. He’s either going to stay as innocent as the day we picked him up until he falls apart or he’s going to become a man trapped in a kid’s shell. There’s only one option here, Han. You’ll hate me for it.”

 

“Never,” Hancock says almost too quickly. “I couldn’t ever hate you Sunshine. Besides, it’s not my decision to make.”

 

Jun emptied the bottle of whiskey then tossed it off the roof. The pair listened as the glass shattered somewhere below them. “I’m going to decommission him. I’ll put him next to Nate.” Then, more to herself than to her lover. “Lay them both to rest, finally.”

 

Silence enveloped them again, this time the ghosts didn’t return. Hancock stood, brushing his hand across Jun’s shoulder as he moved away. “I’m going to take Nat home, kid can walk with us, give you some time on your own.”

 

Without waiting for a response, Hancock disappeared down the hatch into the house. Jun tried to listen to his steps on the ladder but couldn’t make them out through the metal siding. Alone indeed, she thought to herself as she lit yet another cigarette to calm the jitters in her hands. After a few moments, she heard the downstairs door open and watched as her ghoul led a trail of children across Diamond City into the reporter's home. Their laughter reached her perch and something in her stomach turned upside down. With one quick move, she put her cigarette out on the top of her hand, sucking her teeth as the burn settled into her skin and took her mind off her feelings. Relight. Suck. Burn. after three more butts seared into her hand she began to dull the pain, muttering. 

 

“It’s like watching your heart walk right out of your body.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for stopping in! there's only going to be a few more chapters here before we close up Jun and Han's linear timeline. if some of the chapter numbers have changed it's because i condensed some of the shortest chapters that didn't need to be stand alone to make them longer and make it more aesthetically pleasing. 
> 
> if you want more Jun and friends check out Tales of the Wastes, which i conveniently (and incorrectly) made a collection with this. there is an update there as well involving the canon death of our bomb mom. after this finishes up, i'll still be writing about this pair but in random time bursts instead of linearly, but probably just as often. 
> 
> another huge thanks to each of you for giving me a reason to keep fleshing out the story between these two that started out as one small paragraph for a drawing. i'm trying to finish up all the dlc finally so i can write more drabbles for tftw and give you all more things to read. however, skyrim rerelease took over my life and then i bought elder scrolls online and i am just a trash human now. let me know if you have any gaming suggestions for things i can play and in turn write about, i'm always up for writing something you want to see!   
> \-------------  
> find me for chats on twitter, insta, snapchat, and tumblr @narschlob  
> if you want to play with me on PSN: @narspoop  
> all art and Jun related things: http://narschlob.tumblr.com/tagged/juniper-james  
> if you're feeling particularly generous, follow my art insta @narschart  
> playlist for your ears (best heard on shuffle) : https://play.spotify.com/user/ravenclaw182/playlist/3cbValnlechVrZoyBGDlJN


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